I want to be able to feel the substance as I see it. I would like to live my life (see the world) in dimension. I am surrounded by frozen air that traps me like an animal. I stare long and hard to find space.
I reenter my word to find peace.
I try to identify my subjects
but they only grow distant and disperse.
A shiver travels through me
my angel recognizes my battle and acts.
I am not selfish in my goal
only realistic when reality is not the base.
My forehead feels heavy
and my mind somewhere else
but my determination
shows in my eyes.
I stare at the objects
and unveil their meaning.
Looking at my hands
I see the hands of a child
curious with virginity
and smooth from youth.
The glossed eyes of the soulless
glaze with lack of anything
it is not a soft stare but a hard one
that remains empty in time forever.
Does this mean I have no spirit
When I die will I just dissapear
like the body that is all of me
Will all of me vanish
because of my ignorance
to remain in nothingness for eternity?
The only part of me the doctors
canıt cure is my spirit
that is up to me
to build back up once again.
Heaven does not await my arrival
instead they wait for the smoke
caused by the fire I burned
of the ashes that remain
from tears Heaven cried
that came here upon our world
and were treated as a whole other
like the five leaf clover I found as a child
it represents my downfall.
This was always in my history
at least I can save the fate of others
knowing that I am going to die and fade away
makes me just settle in an empty hole
that once was called my soul
that is where the apathy comes from
I continue now only from memory
becoming no stronger or weaker
just a fading formation
that will dissapear with the night
And I find my only option
is to live once again the memories I own.
You are hearing the works of a soulless poet
You are feeling emotions that donıt exist
Once I relive it it will always be there
and if I continue I face nothing but everything.
I pray this is insanity not truth
that thought brings comfort now.
Please God return my soul
I never knew this could change my world
Untitled ten, poem number sixteen, blue notebook
Why canıt the world just be one fcking whole
The only thing that links me to myself is memory-
Iım not supposed to be like this
I am meant to be intellectual