I want to be the person in my poems,
immersed into these moments, and impressed
into the prose,
imperfect but authentic, embedded in the flow
frozen in the motion inspiration as its spoke,
sent into the sentence intercepted by the
mode
enchanted by the dancing, transcending and
transposed
the only time I'm whole is when my hands are
holding hope,
when I'm handling the sound i send inside
these little notes,
dangling entangled in composing I'm composed,
as opposed to when I'm posing as a person
as a hoax
my home is here, amidst acoustic puzzles i
find peace
cast into this act with these syllabic soliloquies
aghast when i step back to catch my breath
and then i breathe
and realities amassed these masterpiece catastrophes
I'm actually abashed by how impassioned i
can get
when i factor in the fact that i craft just
to forget
the disaster of my day to day, my dashboards
in duress
when I'm back to keeping track its just the
F word in effect
I don't want to be that me sometimes, don't
want to face the world
i wanna be above that bull, make something
beautiful
want to be what i create, put me into these
words
don't want to just endure, want to entwine,
enthrall and twirl
escaping through the vents and the crack beneath
the door
i can be both mine and yours its not an either
or
this comes before its time, tomorrow might
appreciate
how i weave a wave and web a wish wink and
walk away
that would of been the perfect place to put
this to a stop
but since this is where i feel alive I'm sorry
i could not
it would of been like suicide i would of been
for you
coulda shoulda woulda shut up I'm gonna continue
I want to be the person in my mind,
the person i impersonate and personify,
the person persevering i personalized
persistent and perplexing pressing play on
this device
devised to demonstrate how to hurdle the divide
undevistate the deficit eradicate the cries
discredit and decrease the detrimental lies
and decorate the wreckage with brand new you
recognize
recycle all the psychological torture into
torches
burning with the passion of unimportant torment
to signal to dark skies, we don't want them
to darken
mocking midnight with light, quieting silence
by talking
when pressing this play button, i don't whats
gonna happen
pretty sure that somethings coming and the
wonders thunder-clapping
i mutter prayer under breath, its more like
demanding
acceptance, exacting, a semblance of understanding
sometimes i want to be someone, tonight i
wanna be something,
a piece of art stolen by some thieves working
for the museum
sometimes i want to belong, tonight i want
to belong to you
a piece of strength you can draw on, knowing,
that your gonna get through
or a piece of paper you can draw on, or a
pen your drawing with
or the inspiration your drawing from, to make
something exist
or the art that your creating that no one
appreciates
till its stolen by some art thieves, from
a dark and lonely place
I want to be the person who is writing
so I'm impersonating an impersonation of a
first impression
i want to be the person surprised by what
I'm hearing
i want to be a person but i find I'm disappearing
i want to be the person in some other persons
art
filling up the crack in some persons broken
heart
I want to be that person and I'm not sure
that I'm not
but whats that thing they say about getting
what you want?
