poem – Thinking Moon

Could I restart my heart?

Some awakenings are too painful to be true.

In dreams, we quarrel thick, and I wake to pounding pain.

An anger so powerful, I’m not sure it’s mine.

If it is, may I use it? Transformation through proclamation.

Mirror mirror on the wall who’s the rightest one of all?

None of us are.

Stop talking so I may speak.

Listen to me, I have earned that right.

It’s in my bones, my ratiocination.

You have sublimation, and I have the rath of God.

He is the God of truth and perspective.

Still not one of us is real.

Reality is as reality does. Performance through pain.

My weakness, is my fragility, is my nightmare.

Please do not make it worse by your facts.

There are too many for this world to be sincere.

Therefore thought is existence, and that is our adversary.

Not differing points of view.

In the end, we are a balance of passion and faults.

I am invisible, they never learned to see me.

My form has been hidden beneath shallow waters,

Inside the grey and the blood, where the pain hides.

You child, have much to learn. Don’t tell me how I feel.

You’ve barely begun yourself, and you have not lived my war.

Fuck off.

When I went and laid my life story out before her,

She did what I paid her to do,

She told me my life story, and I wept when it was true.

I nearly wrote you a letter about all the good things you were.

Then I remembered you took comfort from someone else,

Who doesn’t know the full truth, of your actions.

You dug into my wounds and twisted them.

You, quick to anger and bitterness,

Once again never thought about my misery.

My regards to your own ego.

It serves you well.

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Tag: poem