Blind and Blank

Your mouth like a hundred curtained windows; drawn shut.

Your face, a thousand unfilled copies; blank.
Your eyes like those of a million cart horse; blinkered

Your floodgates hold no water,

I can’t even swim,

When in truth, I want to

Drown

Can’t even

Float

Not

Even 

A dead sea

Constriction

Suffocation

The way of burdensome emptiness rather than

Overwhelming questions

The ones that can’t be answered

But you pose none.

No solace in this silence. 

The Unbearable Grandiosity of Inferiority

Feeling so inferior

The thought that they don’t

So you are better because

You do.

Even though,

Your flaws are far many and

Theirs seem few

Yet you take great pain,

Not just to acknowledge but to

Count and name them all

Feeding them scraps like dogs under the table

In secret

Your pets, they gulp hungrily

And you love them in a way that surprises you

Because you know they don’t deserve a full dinner

Do you pity or is it genuine?

Enough to keep them alive and you

Never deny yourself

There is grandiosity in that

“Oh benevolent master, feed me what you do not want”

But it is an unbearable grandiosity,

A shameful one that must be kept secret,

The guilt

Sense of superiority over knowing you are not. 

I ate my imperfections one day

I ate my imperfections one day.

I put them not in an oven,

But my neo cortex

I baked them

Ate them not with a spoon

But new words

A sensation like no other

An explosion on the tongue

What can only be described as

Perfection incinerated

The most glorious feeling

Filled with the depths of pain

They burnt and they scalded

They ran down my throat like a raging volcanic stream

My insides melting, they consumed and took over

Do not bake your imperfections,

Like fire and wood,

One gives birth sustaining new life,

While the new life tries to

Destroy what is keeping it alive. 

Beauty

Beauty you stand alone,

Isolated and exposed

On the pedestal humanity raised you onto

Yet they remain blind to how much more you are

Your potential

Not just beauty in that which is pleasing to look at,

But all beauty

That terrible beauty which crawls under our skin

And whispers furtively to us at night

Pain is easier to express

But beauty is difficult

Because it stands to defy our condition

Whatever it is that is

We resist to call it beauty

We merely look

Yet yearn to submerge

The misconception that beauty

Is to be admired

Not to consume and become,

A game, folly for fools with no regard,

Leave beauty to them and

Concentrate on more serious matters

Beauty are you lonely?

Or do you find company in the gazes of many?

Solace in separation?

A unity with all because they think you are untouchable

Home

I wish I could go home one day to find its changed

To arrive and not to have to explain

To not struggle for my own words about change

To see it materialised in front of me

To not fumble and falter

To not allow my gaze to fall hopelessly upon the same

To realise the turbulence inside

Is mirrored in all sensory perception

To see the world outside yourself

As if it could understand

I wish I could go home one day to find home has changed