There is a storm in my life
Carve my heart out with a knife
Doomed voices in my head
Of all the things you said
Cut up photographs
Deleted texts never sent
I have been condemned
The agony of this reviled path
Your fruitless words in my breath
Pure noise pollution
Of vile sophistication
My insides are dead
Guts and gore all spread
There is just perpetual dread
I am broken
Even before I have spoken
I lock myself in my mind
What oh what, do I expect to find?
With feverish anticipation
Through numerous incarnations
I wasted time waiting…
Waiting…
For your arrival
But you seem to be written in some other writer’s screenplay.
I don’t want to be a plagiarist
This is the plot twist
You are stolen, You are borrowed
I have to go on without you on this road
Yet…
I cannot escape the images archetypal
They haunt me
Like you have planned my fall
All those wounds I can recall
Leave my mind forever
Exist not there, in error,
Be the rhythm in someone else’s tune.
Your disastrous memories, all strewn,
All over my mind
Like garbage
A hedonistic carnage
Everything seems lost
I’d shoot up a dose of existential angst!
Stop the promise of those eyes of yours
All they bring is tears
Say something not nothing at all,
Something tangible…
Something surreal…
Something fantastic…
Like a dose of unadulterated acid
You are the protagonist of my plotline.
It’s so written in the great design,
Art imitates life
Or life imitates art.
Will you come alive?
Why do these redundant words come tumbling out?
My lamentations to scream and shout!
They want to shoot out from my being
Like a syringe of heroin
You are my undoing
All is a blur
My destructive shooting star
There is no reality in my plotline
No meaning well defined
It’s all lies
Just waves of dispersed smoke
Imagery they invoke
Of lingering glances
Kundalini stirring dances
Under the moonlight
My empty, meaningless words
Lingering through the doorways
Like convoluted memories in my mind
Leave me in silence
Do not be a hindrance
While I wear my red lipstick
And my little black dress
He waits for me I confess
The man I am about to kiss
Does not know about the stress
Of having your ghost inside of me.
All he wants is my warm body
And my deep kisses.
And I will kiss him back…
That’s the only hack.
And make love to the stranger like you don’t exist.
Or maybe I will slash my wrists…
Thank you…
Just wrote this before going out…
Surprised?
Don’t be…
Venus retro in Scorpio…mmmmmm
Pluto stations direct in my fifth….whoa! The NN. on my Sun opposing Mars/B.M.L
Chiron creeping into my 7th! the soppy 29 degree of Pisces…OHMGODDESS
Yes I am a mess, but a glamorous, sexy mess…try me…
Book your sessions
donate
get your own video content
Get my voice recordings for stress or sleep
Or get your own guided meditation module in my voice.
Tags: poem, poems, Poets
No Comments
Wow I relate to that so very deeply! We shall kick ass and get through our messes! Love u stay strong dear Soul sista!!!