To Those About To Define

I am a fractal

And all life is shapeless energy.

It exists in motion,

In a flux, or not at all.

Emotions are like fire,

Easily felt but hard to grasp,

Constantly in motion,

Never simply happy or just sad.

We’re all non-linear,

Even acting like we’re whole,

Pretending space is flat

And that basic shapes exist.

Defining us in terms

Of euclidean simplicity

Is an insult to reality

And the complexity of our souls,

Our being, our essence,

By any other word

Is too broad a subject

For your dismissive unambiguity.

No pill or prayer,

No final solution,

No common sense parable

Or well-meaning lie

Can fill in this space,

Open to interpretation,

Of dimensions vast outweighing

Your shallow view of life.

 

 

 

 

Vibrancy, The Shadow Unraveling

A braver me

Once hungered for the most radical,

The depths of pain and heights of pleasure,

Arts forbidden and obscene.

Looking for shadows,

The silhouettes of hidden meanings,

In music, words, and old philosophies.

All or nothing, or perhaps just me.

Everything to know,

To intercept as we compete.

Learning to express my ailments

Devoid of my identity.

 

A wiser me

Found meaning in shattered pieces,

Learned respect for my flaws,

And earned the rites of restoration.

Feeling through my being,

Pursuing dreams to their bitterest end,

Swallowing whatever lurks there,

And tasting something sweet.

Unraveling an eon

Of silent fears and insecurities,

Traversing the deathly path of nihilism

To know what I truly love.

 

 

For No One To Find

When you can casually bleed

While your psyche screams,

Congratulations,

No one else will ever see.

Your imprisoned esteem

Only needs to breathe

Once in a while

To keep from getting free.

At persona’s relieve

Feel free to release

In humbled bursts

What trembles underneath.

As awful it seems,

It’s only a need

Left unsatisfied

By conventional means.

Carry on incomplete

In your vital deceit

Until maybe one day

You’ll be eased.

 

What Do You Know?

Confused and/or vain,

Evil and/or repugnant,

Count the discrepancies

And steel yourself for more.

Perceptions are abundant

As insults and judgments,

And finding fit words

For yourself is a chore.

Impressions are often biased,

Labels often fall short,

Even platitudes of passion

And support miss their mark.

Life would be so muddled,

So indiscernibly complex.

Simplicity is transgression,

We’re beyond light and dark.

Solitude in expression

Mirrors bolder without eyes.

Honesty is easy

With an audience of one,

But self-revealed truths

Fall flat upon the senses

Leaving deep and shallow guesses

The best from anyone.

 

 

Vanity & Reflection

“Whoever do you want to be?”

The astringent mirror asks of me.

“Does the image your perceive

Contest the one that you believe?”

Of course, I cannot help agree

That what it sees is not all it seems.

Staring into my gleaming eyes

To glean from them what fears I hide,

And yet I know what I would find

If I looked straight through my mind.

I’m not what I believe or see ,

The mirror reveals and deceives

As what constructs identity

Is not imposed by vanity;

But, then again, it still is me,

As much as I am physically.

Pale and pallid, tired eyes,

And other feelings I despise.

“Why do you not answer me?

Who is it you want to be?”

I burrow through my troubled mind,

But nothing there solidifies.

I know I don’t want stubborn lies

But what I want, I can’t describe.

“I guess I just want to be me,

But I don’t know who I should be.”

The mirror replied,

“You’re lying.”

And I replied,

“Shut up.”

Secret Plague

Nobody knew

The extent of the infection

Brewing deceptively

Beneath heavy lidded eyes.

Neurons distorted,

Broken down, reassembled,

Gestating contamination

In unsightly disguise.

Nobody knew

What sickness subverted

Their pallid perceptions

And drowned them in doubt.

Walking around

As raised from the dead,

Buried in the head

And lost their way out.

Nobody knew

Who they should find

Or what sort of mind

Gave voice to their soul.

Helpless health

Sealed snugly in disease

And quarantined beneath

A plea to be alone.

Maturity

Maturing day after day,

“Act your age” is just a phrase,

Natural action happens regardless

Of any percieved phase.

Growing is a pain,

Transition and change strain

Established habits so well

We almost break.

So laying awake,

Dreaming of a peaceful state

Like youth in love with death

For innocence’s sake.

The world shapes,

Hyperactivity anticipates,

The mind trys making sense

While feelings ache.

Some things fade

And sometimes we come late,

But forevermore ageing

The Act remains the same.