Swimming smoke of a musky radiance,
Tell me who I used to be.
Free my spirit from my modern sense.
Remind me how to breathe,
Without choking on my bitter days.
If anything more than rips and tears
On a dusty spiral notebook,
Perhaps memory will remind me where...
To run...
For freedom.
For serenity,
My amber prize, turned yellow.
Symbolic crack in my empty plate,
Telling me to smile again,
Before it's far too late
To remember how,
Without ripping through my reality.
If anything less than an entire sky
Of salty, translucent symbolism,
Maybe misery will reveal the answer why...
I'm still here...
With nothing.
With no redemtion.
My crystal heart, turned grey.
Twisted reflection in perfect glass,
Show me what's to offer.
I've searched within, but alas,
The empty vessel is my truth,
Reminding me that I can't win.
If I could just shatter,
Could Mr. Everything appreciate...
Anything...
Individual pieces.
Tiny shards of attribution.
My transparent personalities,
turned black and white
Forever.
Comments
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This is a very powerful bit of work. Continuing to search the past for answers only works if you learn and grow from the pain.
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I completely agree. I think I've adapted to a solid understanding of my past and a tolerance for any answers that aren't possible to obtain. There are times for strength and resolve, and there are times for looking to humble reflection to remember how to be strong and create resolve, if such answers lay in the past.
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wow this is awsome
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Thank you.
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