I refuse to believe the notion that feelings must be understood.
Turbulent, tumultuous, trampled.
Uplifted, undecided, undeserving.
Wonderful, whimsical, why?
I do not wish to delve any deeper, yet I crave an existence in which I have.
Is it okay to let my heart carry a burden that has yet to be perceived properly?
Is it alright to imagine a life apart from the path I have led mine down?
One where I'm not broken? Where my heart is open? Where my voice is heard and intentions are clear, the water's not murky and blissful joy is near?
I don't want to hurt you, so I must refrain.
Nothing good ever comes from kissing in the rain..
I could express my emotions with words so pretty, write you line after line of gushy meanings, I could pour out my heart into a large glass and allow you to taste my love, happy and content that you would be the last.
Should be the last.
Could be the last..
But I wont.
YOU ARE READING
Incongruity
PoetryThis is where I will put my poems about my experiences. I just want somewhere to store them. If they resonate with someone, then I'm glad to have at least been a voice of familiarity in a world that feels so full of solidarity. Also I usually only w...
