i don't know if i do any good loving people on the outside but i do know that — inside sometimes, i love things, people, songs, books, characters, poems, moments so intensly that i fall in love with them and forget that falling out of love exists.
i have a river of obsession which crosses the dam and floods the village of whatever, if, any sanity i had left in me. i write for others but sometimes, just sometimes — when i've drowned along the village of my sanity and the water occupies every tiny space inside my lungs, sweeping me into a black hole of nothing but admiration so insane that breathing becomes a tiring chore; is when my will to write for none but myself and the many things that swept me along rises. and i could go on and on and on about each one of them, no matter how ordinary someone else's perspective makes them.
like i fell for the night and the thunder and the trees just a few years after discovering them and still let the merit of them all consume my mere existence for i couldn't teach myself to unlove anything. these little obsessions are the fires i learn to live with. the cold of the weather and the people and mostly myself freezes me to death each day and i find my feet wandering back to the only warmth of them i've ever known. perhaps the trickery of feeling alive bounds me, 'cause in the end when i look through the window, i lie drowned dead all over again.
except this time i pray to some anonymous higher entity that the water seems surrounding only because the ice finally melted from the warmth of these fires, and maybe insanity added aid too. but hey, that's all a simple reviere
YOU ARE READING
| musings harmonizing
Poetryhi! <3 this is a collection of my self written poems/songs over the years. lowercase intended. possible triggers - i have introductory poems in the begging to showcase my writing style, with one old and one new poem. - most of this is imaginative...
