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hey. how have you been? i've been busy selling out
oh the golden days when i used to string pretty words together
the hammer behind my words, the terrifying echoes of something immortal, invisible, all-powerful
and then i remember this thing called my voice and you called it unique
i censored it sometimes because it tore shit apart and
now i talk and talk and say nothing at all
but they say i'm pretty
they say
i say
my bird bones say
my phone is a parade of endless monosyllabic conversations
"hey
hey
what's up
not much wbu
same
sweet lol"
every day
every day i meet a progression of people who don't find me intimidating,
eccentric, terrifying, or real
i ain't special, but i'm cool
lol. you should laugh at me. out loud. you really should.
look at me, message me, but are you
listening?
no. i'm censored, muted, maimed
oh wait look another snapchat
i gotta go be cool now
ttyl darlin
11:46
oh, ship. that's how my sister says it.
what if i need to be heard again
introspection: watch me narrate myself off the plank.
images float, saturated in desperate heartbursting meaning.
i breathe in 26 letters,
or drown, and, exhaling, see the light of day.
posterity will enshrine us. our past will enshrine us in light.
20, tomorrow
last day as a teenager,
nostalgizing.
god, i was so angry and it was delicious.
i'm here, still.
surprise
logged on yesterday just for the hell of it,
and found that i've received my third DD.
(edit 9-29: here's a link to the piece,
terabyte ruins http://inkatmidnight.deviantart.com/art/terabyte-ruins-357322676?q=gallery%3AInkatMidnight&qo=3 )
thanks for the views, the faves, the watches. you guys are great.
i wish i could tell you i've been writing and growing in my absence, but i'm not sure that's true. i definitely know some things about myself that i didn't before, and i'm probably more honest as a result. so all these beautiful fabrications i make for myself and post as poetry...
i just don't know anymore.
so i'm sorry if it's clich
.
i miss art
© 2014 - 2024 InkatMidnight
Comments9
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Why is it that your literature always leaves me speechless. I spend almost ten minutes, sometimes, trying to put my feelings into a language that is so bland, it's unreal. Though English is the only language I speak, I feel as though it lacks content and emotion., and thus why I'm always searching for words that meet my feelings, but I rarely ever find ones that express them in the manner that I want.
I make every attempt to treat everyone as a very unique entity. I also can't stand social interaction that isn't deep in thought.
Grrrr..... I give up, I can't express myself in the manner that I feel about your poem. Everything that I type isn't coming close to my feeling, I'm sorry...
I make every attempt to treat everyone as a very unique entity. I also can't stand social interaction that isn't deep in thought.
Grrrr..... I give up, I can't express myself in the manner that I feel about your poem. Everything that I type isn't coming close to my feeling, I'm sorry...