poetry
sometimes my poems don't where to begin
or end.
there are too many words and feelings:
opaque meaning,
diaphanous confusion.
its self indulgent.
I don't know my own feelings well enough to explain them.
finger curl around raindrops
(its impossible)
windy and cold, but not bitter-
sweet, clouded memories.
I make things larger than they are,
magnifying details
all night and all day.
or end.
there are too many words and feelings:
opaque meaning,
diaphanous confusion.
its self indulgent.
I don't know my own feelings well enough to explain them.
finger curl around raindrops
(its impossible)
windy and cold, but not bitter-
sweet, clouded memories.
I make things larger than they are,
magnifying details
all night and all day.
2 Comments:
I like your poetry
David
wow i love the line obout how u dont know how to explain your thoughts because you dont even know the m well enough your self. i am constantly cought in that reality. i like how you said it
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