Existential Composition

11/13/17

I can feel a chill take hold

the air grows more grey each day

where there were

beautiful leaves of every color

now only lies

dead foliage, mere shadows

the best we can do now

is hold on tightly to warming comforts

refusing to give them up

we keep each other warm in support

preventing burdensome snow

from smothering us into eternity

focus not on the dark upcoming winter

too much and it will freeze us to death

instead know that spring will always follow

10/12/17 6:19 am

I am your lolita fangirl

you are my dream come true, Hokage rank

our love exists in a universe all its own

blasting off through space

alone together in a giant mech suit

the galaxy's manifest destiny

you kiss my nose, kawaii

and it thousands-fist-punches my heart

A human soul

aching for more

surly we must exist

for more than employment and death

as a slave to education and currency.

We regurgitate thoughts

but where are our own?

Has every idea already been thought

or is society so shallow it's uninspired?

Apathy taking hold in masses

creation weakly reflecting its former self

an ancient ever-growing conversation

halted through the selfie

I am your sunlight

but you're my dark paradise

my existence seized.

I miss your embrace

swift dread ensues without you

grasping my soul, gone.

You capture my words

speechless with the deepest love

09/02/17

 Strolling through an open field

admiring the serenity

tall grass surrounding us

swaying gently in the breeze

we spot a lone tree

an expectant, weathered bench

waiting for the perfect moment

I envision the fall

you produce a single fruit

offering it

I want nothing more, holding close

how sweet the taste

how divine the moment

a change occurred somehow

return impossible, innocence lost

understanding granted from the plunge

how do we move forward

when we have no clue

how to build a garden

Sorry, I'm not her

not the conversing you wished 

08/27/17 3:17am

 The thing about sunburns

is that everyone burns differently.

Some stand outside only for a second

and are charred, overcooked in minutes

spending much more time in recovery

others are well tanned, skilled and toxic

shallow burn overlaying shallow burn

and others still, avoid the Sun entirely 

remaining pale their whole life and

when they experience daylight

the burn is much deeper

so they build up frigid, unclimbable walls

and live life from a slender windowsill

allowing no light to pass through.

 Since the greatest of burns

stubbornness has prevented you

from ever existing in true sunlight

settling for a faded, dusty window.

Therefore, missing out on the beauty

found if only you would be willing

to step outside and embrace the warmth

let me overexpose you

let me rebuild your walls into a garden

let me show you

what true happiness feels like.

Like the Sun,

I’m following a restless rotation

fixed in the sky, waiting

patiently beholding the Moon

more unique than any star

but only finding its darkness

unable to reach through space and time.

Like the Moon,

you are my opposite yet also strangely similar

hidden under clouds, shrouded in night

but even the Sun is eclipsed by the Moon

what a unique gravity possible

a rare sight, leaving inimitable shadows.

However, no burning is imminent in the shade

the Sun and Moon rarely meet

and the Moon doesn’t burn for the Sun

08/26/17

 Last night I had a dream

you called my phone

in the dark early morning

you needed to tell me

you couldn't do it anymore

and no longer wished to speak to me.

The dream changed, continuing

and I was talking to someone

known from high school

unrequitedly interested in me

a conversation I stripped of hope

granting honesty in the real world.

I woke crushed, unsure

was it just a dream

or my life foreshadowed?

I'm a hypocrite

as I hope

for you to let me in

I also deny

the same hope in others.

Does this make me

tenacious or destructive?

I'm simply tired of new hope

continually being created and broken.

Especially when it's not the hope I desire

seeking out power over me.

I refuse to continue this toxic cycle

and instead, accept things as they are.

But why must we

always be self-destructive

refusing the easy choice

denying other's love

while embracing empty hope

knotting our own noose. 

 An internal bomb

ticking away aching souls

hopelessly giving up hope

08/23/17

 Memories dissolve quickly like cigarette smoke

being replaced with dreamful insecurities

and the craving of fire renewed.

I tried to quit my addiction for you

patching myself with lower investments

but I realize now that you are inescapable

despite my failed attempts.

So I’ve decided to negotiate with my soul

to just settle and be happy

with this addiction as it stands

surely it must be better

than constantly worrying

what we are and what we aren’t.

Liberation can be found

in fucks not given.

 Like a matchstick

I've always been concerned with burning

but maybe what's best for me

is to chill rather than burn, avoiding friction

transcending my greatest flaw

not everything has to be on fire

not everything has to end

as a smoldering pile of soot.

 I remember there was a point in time

a little over a year ago now

all I dreamt of was

to have a conversation with you

to have a slight fraction of your time

so now that I have it

I will learn to be happy regardless

of what you do or don’t feel.

It must be better to be near you unlit

than to unwillingly burn us both to death.

 Dreams are falsities

rhetoric aimed at the truth

08/22/17

 Like the most beautiful flower

growing at an inescapable pace

my Hannah is the picture of perfection.

She will grow and surpass my flawed self

she will change the world

if only with a smile.

My biggest regret will always be

time never spent with her in my arms

my eyes wetting at the thought

the sharpest of afflictions

but time is being exchanged

so she may have a better future.

I work, almost succeeding

so that she may never need to need

that everything necessary will be hers

unlike my own deprived childhood.

But maybe childhood

is meant to be deprived

where I was poor, lacking material goods

she is also poor, lacking a mother.

Nonetheless, my daughter will grow

I can only dream of the future,

maybe she will be an artist

her soul creating beauty from beauty

or maybe a woman of science

reminding the world of great things

capable of intelligent women.

My mother always told me

I'm capable of anything I set my mind to

the very same applies to my Hannah.

So as much as I lament her ageing

I look forward to seeing her bloom

into the perfect women she’s meant to be.

Like the rain pouring

may her future be flooded

08/20/17

 You are water, an ocean in fact.

You simply exist and

suffer a toxic creature

hidden in your depth.

 I am oil, messy and flammable.

I exist to scorch and glow

dreaming of being blended with the ocean

but in the mixing

would it be beautifully iridescent?

or another awful toxic mess?

 I am endlessly burning

a fire building from long ago

I only dream to smother you

flames engulfing all other toxicity in your depths

but you don’t burn

only attempt to put out

my enduring flame

protecting your own

hidden toxicity.

 A wildfire-spreading oil’s true daymare

unnecessary brightness being extinguished

when all it wanted was to engulf

and share in the burning.

 But water and oil don’t mix

they sit apart, only just barely touching

but still, your attempts can’t drown

08/17/17

 We are both insane prisoners

captives wrapped in irrationality

too busy shouting the names

of those who have afflicted us

too trapped in the problems

created in our own head

to be able to see

too determined to grasp

the lock pick in our back pocket.

 But maybe it's just me

who is the insane one

you weren't imprisoned on your own intentions

just caught up in the moment

wrong place, wrong time

I however, am somewhat free

well-practiced in picking locks but

true liberation seeming far away

still coming and going as I please

free to frolic unsatisfied

growing discontent with society and

of the reality of independence

so I return to my own familiar cell

apart from yours

at least we're shouting in harmony

voices echoing together

even if we shout different

names and destinations.

 You are my prison cell.

Despite searching fruitlessly

it’s the only place I truly feel understood

the only true home I have left after my crimes

so here I continually break into prison

but how could I not also

constantly try to escape

when this empty, hopeless jail cell

makes me dread my very existence and

08/18/17 4:34am

 I have become the thing I hate the most.

I’m just someone using others to fill the emptiness in my own life.

Just trying to fill that Seth-shaped void.

Space makes it easier, feelings dimmer.

I’ve met someone I actually like, a solid mutual interest.

One day’s conversation and I’m reminded.

Without an intellectual connection, it’s futile.

Now I’m debating cutting the conversation short with this new person.

Honesty must be better than telling half-truths, hiding guilt at the realization.

How can I crush someone I genuinely like for a hopeless fantasy I can’t escape?

How can I settle for someone new with a basis of potential lust?

The past has taught me that I’ll grow tired of it eventually, lacking real depth.

The present is teaching me that I can’t escape Seth, shaker of my world.

I hate the power that has over me.

I hate this new person I’m slowly evolving to be.

I hate that things can’t literally ever be simple.

I hate my necessity of depth in a potential companion.

I hate the shallowness of society.

I hate how it constantly excludes me, even when trying to be shallow.

I hate the feeling of hypocrisy while objectifying others.

I hate the bitter-sweet happiness it brings.

I hate how toxic hope can be.

I hate that the only thing that could fix this is the one thing I can’t have.

I hate this constant headache I have.