Truth About Poetry. (Ongoing)

Ugly sunset.

Sunset.

Ducking beneath that horizon.

What are you so afraid of?

It gave me goosebumps, undeniably dramatic.

Moonlight.

Pouring rain.

Whipping wind.

One last breath.

She rose out of that lake like silhouetted sea creature.

Polaroid proof.

Damaging my internal organs like sound waves.

If there ever was a moment to be labelled poetic?

It was it.

She was everything.

And we were endless.

And now she's nailling some other guy!

And I'm trapped between the foreground and the background as the only guy she knew who could make her tingle!

The break up gave acupuncture wounds in all the wrong places which felt less like a sacred chinese method of release and relaxation,

and more like being jabbed with a bunch of little fucking needles.

This is to that sunset which claims to be beautiful within shapes and shades and mystical colours, when really?

It's one ugly motherfucker.

That sunset has put an end to more beautiful days than you care to count.

That sunset is the reason for teen curfews and little girls being taken from their homes.

That sunset is the cause of evil worldwide!!

FUCK THAT THING!!!

You can paint you canvas and snap your photos but i submit that that is one Ugly Sunset.

That sunset and all of its hedious glory barked death threats at me and told me that if i thought it was so fucking ugly, that i shouldn't look at it.

And if i thought these feelings were so painful that i shouldn't write poetry about them.

I look at that sunset cause even ugly is beautiful and humanity holds no standards so kissing this audience with my break up poem is not self indulgence.

It taken something ugly and painful and heartbreaking and showing just how beautiful life can be!!

So do it sunset!

Keep causing death and destruction and darkness and masking it as beauty!!

And go ahead baby, make me jealous, pluck my nerves and yank those fucking tears out of me!!

I appreciate beauty no matter how difficult it is defined!!

I hope you can do the same.

Ugly sunset.

Ducking beneath that horizon.

What are you so afraid of?

Mike Gerbino