There's a dearth of perception in this ocean of
Virulent wasteland
I want to live in a bubble of ignorance because
My fears are too big to comprehend
Those shining moons, those black night skies
The world is gone in a blink, and alone in my mind
I find you wandering
Through seven years of bad luck
In the stars I seen a jaded writer howling
It's easier to let go than love a dying flower
It's easier to spend your last dime
Than spend a lifetime holding onto somebody
You just can't break through
Wishing this could last forever, but this love isn't true
All night I cried, dreaming of you
All night I cried, I died in the camera flash
Under the dark night sky I feel the cold winds on my skin
Echoing like bells, echoing like bells.
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Author:
Jordan Cash (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 29th, 2022 19:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: jarcher54
Offline)
Comments1
I think we've all cried all night over a love that isn't gonna work, or can't happen, or is unrequited. Love the way you put it, the world is gone in a blink. When your thoughts collapse on themselves and you are oblivious to the rest!
Neatly said. This one is about how doubt is the plague of creativity. Maybe I'm not so uninspired, but sometimes definitely dejected. Sometimes feeling incompetent as a writer. I have so many ideas in my head to unpack, poems I've been planning to write since forever, even scribbled intentions as old as the pandemic, but it often feels like trying to clean up a horde of thoughts and I don't know where to begin. I will never fall out of love with the artform of expressing myself/my feelings through the beauty of words, but sometimes my judgements are merciless. It's the constant battle between introspective torture, cruel self-awareness, and an amalgamation of neurotic insecurities.
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