Do I Think Too Much?

What makes us happy?
Well, what gets us through the day?
Little things,
Compliments and memes,
Dreaming for the future
And sleeping next to someone sweet?

And what makes it work?
What makes the meaning maker?
Money and jobs,
Resources and transactions,
Decisions, directions,
And the endless need for labor?

What does it mean?
Weren’t we making it last verse?
Something that we earn,
Something we’re still learning,
A fantasy or a needed story,
A reason to keep it going
And to believe we have worth.

They cross and collide,
Meanings, means, and distractions.
Moving more apart
And then again together,
More despair and satisfaction.
Movement made momentous by the mind,
Our language for a moment’s passion?

A Brief Summation Of Feelings

I feel tired, worn out, and exhausted.

Ageing faster than my mind is maturing.

Unceasing stimuli of sporadic thought,

Insomnia, sleepless daydreams occurring.

I feel drugged, comatose and stupid.

Staring endlessly, seeing nothing outside.

Contemplations rearranging my perceptions,

Creating illusions and epiphanies I must abide.

I feel thoughtful, diligent and wise.

Evaluating and measuring all intuition.

Life examined, dissected and simplified,

Knowing the rhyme and reason of decision.

I feel angry, agitated, and upset.

To be known, disregarded or misunderstood.

Inconvenient, unrealized, undesired,

Willing, but unable to slow if I could.

I feel like friends and family ignore me,

Avoid me for the sake of comfort and peace.

I feel like they cannot acknowledge,

I know them better , and my intuition won’t sleep.

I feel Isolated,

I feel like talking to you and hanging out because I’m Isolated,

I feel like talking to you and hanging out for three hours then going home so I can be Isolated.

I feel like I want to be with you,

I feel like I miss you and that we should never be together.

I feel like it’s a missed chance,

I feel like I’m glad we missed it, we’re better off,

But I still miss you.

I feel like there’s nothing to say,

Like you’ll see what I mean when I’m ready.

Like I’ve been waiting a long time, growing and changing,

And you’ll soon see what I’ve created.

I feel like heartache,

Like if I wasn’t so cold I’d be bleeding,

If I hadn’t been numbed at such a young age,

Like I would be helpless and bleating.

I feel untouchable,

Like it’s almost too late for me to ever feel vulnerable,…

I feel love for you,

And I’m not cruel enough to dismiss it.

If I suffer for you,

I can’t complain for forgiveness.

If you suffer for me, I promise not to forget it.

Baby Brain

Reflections, and imaginary conversations

Close fitting clothes and coffee in a warm place

Daydreams unending, continuing over days

Alone in my head, talking to you.

Confessing my feelings, my thoughts and desires

Living out my fantasies and my fears

Opening up to you and to myself

Without even needing you to be here.

So vivid sometimes I can’t sleep,

So potent sometimes I can’t think,

When it’s you and me and no one else

And it’s really only just me.

It’s a need and an addiction

A substitute for intimacy

A safe-space for my emotions

Where only I could really hurt me.

My sensitivities are brought to surface

My fragile ego realizes it’s pains

My weaknesses and repressions, illuminate

And I see through my baby-brain.

It’s me and you at you-know-where

We’re playing freely without care

We’re pretending, so we can feel

Like Disney-land is really real.

Lust and Loathing

Mellow-dramatic pouting inside of my room, lonely

Teen-angst phase never outgrown, but still growing

Manic depressive, self obsessed and self abhorring

Wallow in contemplation and satanic children’s stories

Look,

It’s not as if I want to be like this

I’m honestly sick of writing this kind of shit

I don’t like it, I’m bored with it, but it just always seems to fit

Me.

Words like “Lament” and “Depression” come so freely to my lips

Without effort, without thought, and mostly without context

My subconscious expects them to be useful I guess

I guess,

I still have issues left, unresolved

Things that I’ve repressed

Holding back my progress

Because, I’m trying to tell a better story.

It’s not that I’m upset, I’m just tired,

and bored.

Hold me,…

Non-existent Without Notice

My friends know where to find me when they need me

When they need a friend they find me as I am

Static, waiting, nonexistent without notice

Ready to be seen and heard, seeing and hearing them

In how many ways can I say that I am lonely?

Count them, there are many, too many to decide

It matters little how I choose to express it

I’ll say it. If you know it, you might feel it besides

Seven billion minus one is what we are

Negatives who standing out are figured out alone

However many it must take to make us human

Many more than all the people I have known

Friends I need to see and hear me, standing by

Static, nonexistent, waiting until they’re needed

Within that time waiting to be heard I will not mind,

the loneliness and static, waiting to be completed

Dear October

The calm and ominous clouds of October skies

Dark and gray, l’ombre filtre sur la terre

The bittersweet droplets of Autumnal rain

Cascading down pleasantly through the air

Silence weighing heavier over the season

le murmure de le vent, singing through the trees

Through my jacket sleeve, and caressing my hair

Gently pacifying my emotions in the breeze

Imagining all these things as my element

Forces of nature representative in me

Quiet gentle Autumn, Somber skies of gray October

Carrying and cradling me to deepest sleep.

Non-linear Thoughts

Gratitude is payment, Payment is a vice

Everyone has vices, Making us feel nice

Feelings always change, Rolling of the dice

Sometimes more than God, Sometimes less than lice

Fiery the passions, Numbness cold as ice

Causes have re-actions, Actions have a price

Prideful as a lion, Modest as the mice

Thoughts are sometimes broad, Sometimes they’re precise

Not always enough, Though they may suffice

They can hold you back, And they can entice

Minds are so complex, Not just a device

Home of our perceptions, Matter with a spice