Deeply mistrustful of my own words.
For they dont tell you how I feel.
It purges me! This urge to write,
But not a vowel of this is real,
Except I.
Because it isnt real.
All of this, a pretty lie.
This isnt what I'm trying to say,
Even right now, even these words.
The meanings lost along the way
From the heart to the mouth to the world.
And language is our tool, our sword,
Blunted by these ambiguous times.
And in it all there is no word,
To explain the sickness of Nick O'Brien.
And the heart is screaming. Dont you see?
If you want to know me come and live in me.
Because words do not exist
Not in english and not in men.
Not to understand our pains,
I'll twist my tongue and thoughts till then.
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5 comments:
a world of words and non-realities. but they're such pleasant escape, don't you think? cool writing. keep it coming.
but not a word of this is real..except I...
very true..well written...
words are what,
a way for an expression,
effulgence in twisted pathos,
churn them the way u want,
weave a serenity which rhymes..
or induce a pain which blinds..
its ur apathy.
2 assuge thm the way u want
so bask in the glory..
conflate the tyranny..
your words are your only catharses
let them flow
dont let the child
cry in the womb
unheard and unlistened:0)
cheers...
(wow i loved twisting ur words0)
read ur comment ,but why did u choose such an old post 2 do tht or u also gt scared by the volcanic eruptions jolting my blog:)
yeah tht ws str8 frm the heart or stomach i think i can write good stuff on an empty stomach:)
keep on coming back there,
Cuz amidst all the chaos,
theres serenity,
weaving churning
sunshine and laughter,
cascading the pain,
tears hiding behind the laughter.
and silence screaming down the noise:)
love my original expression(nor original;of course);but as i always carp--its only words.......
beautiful reality woven in words.
but something seems unsaid still......
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