A Poem For You and Me

When words flow and flood with fright and flirtation,

When words flow and flood with fright and flirtation, why do life and luxury linger on senseless simulation –

When words flow and flood with fright and flirtation, why do life and luxury linger on senseless simulation – crush and rush my reveries in a relapsing rotation?

No, that came out wrong; no excuses for that.

I’m sorry.

What are my poems but a pointless paste of purview,

What are my poems but a pointless paste of purview, heartstrings hacked with this helpless harlequin hue

What are my poems but a pointless paste of purview, heartstrings hacked with this helpless harlequin hue of endless enforced ecstasy executed for you?

I ink imagination from the ills and happiness from the hurt,

I ink imagination from the ills and happiness from the hurt, but I draft your dreams into despair too as if I am dirt

I ink imagination from the ills and happiness from the hurt, but I draft your dreams into despair too as if I am dirt with bitter brushstrokes overwhelmed by my ovations never overt,

my passion never plain,

my passion never plain, my love never lain –

all galvanized by my glory and gloom.

But validation vanishes like vapour after the verses,

But validation vanishes like vapour after the verses, hopeless haikus, blank ballads, loathing lyrics.

The words still don’t make sense.

Let me try again.

Do these dulled delusions, my art,

Do these dulled delusions, my art, pronounce pleasure or pain?

Reader, do you know the worlds willed and wiped away?

Reader, do you know the worlds willed and wiped away? Do you know how the daydreams squirm to colour from grey?

Are those things honesty?

I don’t know how to be anything beyond this poetry puzzle maze of magic marred without music.

I’m sorry.

(Aside) So, while listening to music again, a few hours ago, I decided to write a poem! :D I am unsure how happy I am with it, though, mostly because it's uneven (intentionally so, though) and I am not used to writing poetry that much as of late.

This piece is based on concerns that I have over my writing -- exaggerated, though -- in terms of others understanding me and my concern of making people feel too much emotion out of my words. It's also a bit different from what I usually write on (since it's more meta), so there is a degree of experimentation.

I feel a bit uncomfortable posting this, to be honest, but I hope it doesn't come across too negatively towards myself. They are just fleeting worries about myself, as I said.

I hope that you are all doing well, and please, continue on writing! Stay amazing, Commaful, and take care! <3