Fuck these sloppy misspelled dreams written in ink that always bleeds through this flimsy lined paper world where there's never enough room to write everything you feel.
Fingertips dare to rip through the surface, the flimsy membrane holding it all in.
Dare to push tension into the stretchy skin, whose elasticity is actually a joke.
Fuck this. Break through.
Rupture the membrane. Send the shit exploding, flying in a gooey fiasco of authenticity,
filling the room to the knees.
Far better than constantly ignoring the walls around you, filtering out the words written on the sides of your mind you rather not read.
Fuck that.
YOU ARE READING
The Agony of Wonder
PoetryA very sad, very freely written and poetic, very introspective recollection of lost love and all the confusion and pain it caused and the subsequent search for one's self once the other half is gone.
