I
Have no idea what I'm feeling
Simple rehashing of overgeneralized concepts
Of Love, Grief, Cynicism
That drift across the page.
With a swift twist of the pen.
You blind yourself, willfully, a child's impulsivity
The frantic belief that everything is as it should be
But you can never truly understand another
Regardless of your proclivity, your proximity.
The poet writes to find a compadre, a soul sibling
And if he does in that rare connection,
It is the glorious burst of fireworks
Sparkles of glittering illumination in the azure night
Like little fireflies, glimmering before fading
As if they had never existed before their transient frenetic flight
Failure is dragged, fear extended
Sorrow brilliant in its magnificence
The keen glittering edge, inhuman in its iridescent beauty
Dark torment in its stark lines of simplicity
We all carry our private grief to the grave.
Ssh, just listen to the calm,
It's the sound of silent hearts breaking.
