Friday, August 18, 2006

Poetry is Food and I Never Meant to Hurt

What do you think of me? To be honest I am scared of who I am, I'm not violent, though, I think 'horror movie' thoughts.

I am scared of people at times. It takes long periods of time to be friends with a sweet smile, with a kiss planted on the cheek.

Sometimes I stand with legs shaking, perched high up some rocky place, the fear of falling always near. What do you think when I say I feel like jumping, I feel like releasing all my fear and watching the ground come closer to my eyes? I commit suicide daily. I hit hard ground, but get up again and again. All this climbing up to top is draining, when will it stop, when will I just close my eyes, never to wake up? I hate Google it offers all the answers but leaves several questions unanswered. AskJeeves is also confusing, type in who is God and you are none the wiser.

Poetry is food, sometimes I never want to eat a piece of red tender meat, a juicy blood orange, a white mountain scoop of ice cream. I want to eat poetry, let every word be eaten, please be food for me. Share each vowel, each sound of word, each explosion of meaning. I wonder what an 'a' would taste like on the tongue, bitter, sweet, a morsel of angel food that slips gently down? Contact me if you want to hear my thoughts, I am empty at times, I tell you a frog has more thoughts in his head. Insects have more bite then me, sometimes I just sit back all shelled out and watch me from the inside out, and wonder what is going on.

Perhaps I am cruel, I am senseless, but I never mean to hurt. You said I hurt you, I was mindless, when it came time to love i buckled and ran. You do not know me, I do not mean to hurt, you want to feel better so you cry, "You hurt me." You feel comfort in my hurt. Everyone is a bastard, a bitch, a moron at times. I realise this. I understand, but let me tell you I never meant it, if that helps any, did I tell you I was also hurt by you? Did I tell you I was hurt by me. I slash my virtual wrists, I tell my head strange things that only confuse. Do you know I am human? Can you see my heart, I wear it on my sleeve? If I was zombie, I'd be the best flesh eating zombie there would ever be. If I was a robot I would be the most intelligent machinery there would ever be. But I am human, and there is no way I can be the best human there could ever be.

1 comment:

Louise said...

hmm, what thoughts you have!
doesnt seem you get many coments. i dont think you need critiqing on your words.

come to my nincompoop of a blog. there is a poem waiting there for you.


--("headache" bah!)