Up, close and personal Yearnings of a Longing & Introverted mind

 

 Friction

I saw the picture of a ghost today

it was a memento of a fair and pained soul's deathday

and it might have been a blasphemy the fact

that the face burned me and shook me so

because it looked just like your reflection

and it is so pathetic, that pictures are the only connection

I have with you - would you consider? to be my bitter-

-sweet substitute for my disowned cigarettes?

I'm dying to inhale your breath and keep you in my lungs

and resign my life and all my little moments to your taste.

You can spark up my purposeless decaf and accompany

my gallons of hot and steamy tea; I'll scream my plea

if it'll turn you on and make you say yes.

Pardon my intrusion, I'm taking off my shoes and coming in,

it's just that I have this solid feeling causing my heart friction,

that we can be each other's forever and ideal addiction.

Parenthesis

Parenthesis

Living under the broad daylight

was something I had missed

but now as I move and am and interact

and trying to act; like my fellow robotic locusts,

(gone, my individuality lusts)

something is amiss

and I just cannot dismiss

the dark and sympathetic lonely nights

that are now devoured by sleep

(the morning's awakening is so steep)

there has to be a semblence of normalcy

it is the pillar of idiocracy

and bloody sweaty paper feeds its locomotive

this era's ulterior motive

gone are my happily dark thoughts,

this new persona has succumbed

to its turn-offs

in order to survive, one must divide

and conquer

the clutter

and cacophony of heartbeats

(this must be the ultimate nightmare)

of the clay puppeteer

the scenes behind the eyelids are cut

Jeanne's voices have been shut

keep your eyes open

bloodshot, the contacts must stay on

It's everyday life synthesis

bitter-routine symphony (I can change)

dreams in parenthesis

(but the memory remains)

Inner Peace

                                                         

Inner Piece

“Twinkle-twinkle little star, so clumsy that it fell

wasn't really meant to live to tell

saved by the angels' bells

mama's scarred knees and holy promises

daddy's energy on premises, while

big sister's waiting at home with Snoopy

And so she gathered all her strength

pulling IVs, leaning against plastic walls of white

knowing she had to cry out for dear life

but that's just not like her at all”

But look, she survived somehow in silence

bleeding unrealized inner radiance

shyly scorning the outside world

that's just calculating what she's worth

"Fellas, it's all about the inner piece,

love, inspiration and imaginings".

At school she paid full attention

to blend in was her intention

but kids said she wasn't normal

the house she drew was so informal

sketched in perspective and not 2D

the roof's not red and there's too much purple ink.

Oh, why are you trying so hard to adapt?

You don't even know why the teacher had you slapped.

Why are you trying so hard to bond?

All the best friends were here to go - and isn't it hilarious

that they were all born under the sign of Aquarius?

Must be like the case with men in Sagittarius.

Growing up was hard on her mentality

torn among her bouquet of personalities

seemed so puzzling and missing a piece.

Is it ok to be cotton candy smile and sweet

while also in seclusion and purple deep

scarlet glam gal rolling in dirt for fun

serious and perfect and a control freak

changing hair colors feeling full of white streaks

But look, she survived somehow in silence

bleeding unrealized inner radiance

shyly scorning the outside world

that's just calculating what she's worth

"Fellas, it's all about the inner piece,

love, inspiration and imaginings".

Hush now, it’s ok, miss Sadness is gone,

she couldn’t convince you did everything wrong

Hush, cause you no longer have to dress

the cloak of the fidgeting dame in distress

- unless there’s a fetish you should not repress!

For you can finally grasp that last piece

feel it and fumble it, persuade you it’s real

- it’s always been there, but now it’s been healed

Here we go... This is the beginning, the most valuable and vulnerable part of a project, of life itself.
Rookies' Heaven and creators' Hell, the soft spot for the nightmare of writer's block to creep in.
My first actual post.

Whether it's a fresh start or a restart, one should begin with fundamentals and look at the big picture, in order to build a solid base.
When it comes to a personal journey (which this blog actually is), what could be more fundamental than the very self, the way one sees their self, co-exists and interacts with it.

This is an older piece of work, from back when I was still at war with my self. I would attack and there would always be a counterattack, in a seemingly never ending battle. There were also times of peace - brief ones, though. Still, it was better than the phase before that, when I was only battering my self, like a monster attacking a helpless child that, unable to defend itself, was just taking the blows.
Currently, me, my self and I, after changes, setbacks and some skin shedding, have reached the phase of diplomacy and negotiations. (One -extremely- small step for mankind, one giant leap for me).

                                                         ..........................

(I just read the last paragraph I wrote... It makes me seem totally bipolar, doesn't it? ...Nah, I'll just ignore that and let the paragraph be as it is. Feel free to think whatever you like!)

                                                        ...........................

Just my self reflection

Mirror mirror on the wall,

who's the greatest one of foes?

Who is the one I most resent,

yet loving them I am condemned

I ask again, although I know

that silence will still linger

like the scent of a stranger I once knew

because no answer lies in words

It's just my self reflection

                                                                   .............................

These few lines go hand in hand with another short monologue-like poem, naturally, like siblings.

Naturally, as self-hatred and doubt bring along their best friends to the party, depression and apathy.
And they keep drugging you, to the point where simple feelings, joys and tears of everyday life, can't be felt, sun rays can no longer reach you and you prefer getting lost in sleep's oblivion.
To live only by night, seeking to sense and feel alive, overtaken only by rushes and violent desires, or endlessly contemplating your emptiness in seclusion. 

                                                  

Nocturne Path

Give me a hug, or give me a gun,

trigger my emotions or my hand

scar my soul and make it bleed

show me your intention's deep

or don't bother, let me hanging

gazing my imaginary friend in outer space.

It will be forever and a day

before my fate takes its rightful place.