06-29-2013, 04:18 AM
I know it's super long, but give it a chance!
I don't really ever write poems, I like to write songs, though.
You might even say this isn't really a poem.. There's like no structure to it really, hah... I'm not exactly sure what to call it in that case. But hey, it is what it is... o.0
It describes my hell. Tell me what it means to you =)
---
Today...
What even is a "today"?
Today could be what has been done... if it's time for bed.
Today could be things to do... if today is still young.
Today I long for solitude, so I can simply be what I am right now.
As I sit here, my mind is drawn like a magnet to a question I've never had a harder time answering.
What am I right now?
Mostly myself, I think.... But right now, my existence is accompanied by a dimension whose description is exasperatingly elaborate and seemingly impossible to explain.
Its nature is infectiously peculiar..
It is a nature of blissful horror..
A nature quite unnatural, as it comes to be....
Right now I am something I can't accurately depict through words, yet I continue to try. Why...?
It sits here in my mind like a heated coal, insistently burning a demand to be expressed...
I can envision it in my mind quite easily, like the nostalgia a memory carries.
It's more than a vision, though. And no words can begin to construe its embodiment with justice.
It is an "idea-feeling", if you will....
A concept with vibe;
A notion with mood;
A thought with character....
This thing that is a part of me is not the essence of me. It's a completely separate aspect of something which I, myself, have given life.
A Frankenstein of sorts, you could say....
As it lies dormant, its influence is null....
However, entertain the wrong notion and you've violently jolted the monster to life armed with an influence vastly potent.
It is as if....
It's as if my being forms itself an open wound. Perhaps out of pure fear. Perhaps it was manipulation.
This mentally self-inflicted laceration acts as an open door to my 'vulnerablized' soul.
Quicker than reason could be formed, this "outside force" seeps through to the inside, via a pathway I created myself.
As it occupies a space alongside of me, I begin to feel a debilitating grip slowly tighten the circumference of my mind.
This distress leads to increasing difficultly in my ability to think rationally or put up any resistance.
Weakened, I can't help but tease myself with the idea of "Oh, how easy it would be for me.. to just give in. So much easier...
So just let it posses you..."
With that, the deception can begin to fully ensue....
Suddenly, the torment is no longer recognized.
An eerie, yet intoxicating, sense of ease ripples through my thoughts so as to distract any desire to resist.
I sigh in complete relief as my eyes dilate. There no longer exists any visible blue iris, only black pupils in empty eyes.
So now, unbeknownst to a new, now-compromised me, the very fabric of my reality is gradually warped to a will not of my own.
My essence, the 'pure' portion of me, is half-evaporated the way a vapor or mist slowly vanishes into the air.
And the remainder dissolved into this intangible form of evil.
I am obliviously conducted through distorted perception.
Blind to my own manipulation, two entities steadily blur into one.
The 'real' me can't decide how I feel about this whole thing.
I love it. I hate it.
I love to hate it, and I hate to love it.
The result is....
what I am, right now.
I don't really ever write poems, I like to write songs, though.
You might even say this isn't really a poem.. There's like no structure to it really, hah... I'm not exactly sure what to call it in that case. But hey, it is what it is... o.0
It describes my hell. Tell me what it means to you =)
---
Today...
What even is a "today"?
Today could be what has been done... if it's time for bed.
Today could be things to do... if today is still young.
Today I long for solitude, so I can simply be what I am right now.
As I sit here, my mind is drawn like a magnet to a question I've never had a harder time answering.
What am I right now?
Mostly myself, I think.... But right now, my existence is accompanied by a dimension whose description is exasperatingly elaborate and seemingly impossible to explain.
Its nature is infectiously peculiar..
It is a nature of blissful horror..
A nature quite unnatural, as it comes to be....
Right now I am something I can't accurately depict through words, yet I continue to try. Why...?
It sits here in my mind like a heated coal, insistently burning a demand to be expressed...
I can envision it in my mind quite easily, like the nostalgia a memory carries.
It's more than a vision, though. And no words can begin to construe its embodiment with justice.
It is an "idea-feeling", if you will....
A concept with vibe;
A notion with mood;
A thought with character....
This thing that is a part of me is not the essence of me. It's a completely separate aspect of something which I, myself, have given life.
A Frankenstein of sorts, you could say....
As it lies dormant, its influence is null....
However, entertain the wrong notion and you've violently jolted the monster to life armed with an influence vastly potent.
It is as if....
It's as if my being forms itself an open wound. Perhaps out of pure fear. Perhaps it was manipulation.
This mentally self-inflicted laceration acts as an open door to my 'vulnerablized' soul.
Quicker than reason could be formed, this "outside force" seeps through to the inside, via a pathway I created myself.
As it occupies a space alongside of me, I begin to feel a debilitating grip slowly tighten the circumference of my mind.
This distress leads to increasing difficultly in my ability to think rationally or put up any resistance.
Weakened, I can't help but tease myself with the idea of "Oh, how easy it would be for me.. to just give in. So much easier...
So just let it posses you..."
With that, the deception can begin to fully ensue....
Suddenly, the torment is no longer recognized.
An eerie, yet intoxicating, sense of ease ripples through my thoughts so as to distract any desire to resist.
I sigh in complete relief as my eyes dilate. There no longer exists any visible blue iris, only black pupils in empty eyes.
So now, unbeknownst to a new, now-compromised me, the very fabric of my reality is gradually warped to a will not of my own.
My essence, the 'pure' portion of me, is half-evaporated the way a vapor or mist slowly vanishes into the air.
And the remainder dissolved into this intangible form of evil.
I am obliviously conducted through distorted perception.
Blind to my own manipulation, two entities steadily blur into one.
The 'real' me can't decide how I feel about this whole thing.
I love it. I hate it.
I love to hate it, and I hate to love it.
The result is....
what I am, right now.