Nameless Wonder,
That's my name -
Or rather, should I say,
His name.
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He's my helpline
When no friends are in sight,
No light is in sight,
Just glistening teardrops
And lethal tools
That could relieve my pain.
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Nameless Wonder,
He's really a guy who's inside of me,
Who urges me to get a pen,
Or grab my tablet,
The moment my throat burns from crying,
When I start getting reclusive
And tell people I'm fine when I'm not,
When I'm certain I'm suffocating -
But I'm not...
He orders me to grab a pen.
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Nameless Wonder,
My alter ego,
The most honest guy I know,
He says things the way they are,
He sees no worth in secrets,
So he'll tell you
That a girl made him horny -
Without really pointing it out...
In about 30 lines overdosed
With contradicting thoughts -
And he'll tell you,
That he can't sleep
By writing down 3 poems
On insomnia...
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And as annoying as he can be -
When he exploits romantic meetings
I have with girls to write a poem...
Or when he recites poetic lines
While I'm trying to study for a test -
With the fact that his death
Seems to be nothing but mere fiction...
I sincerely adore him.
I adore him
When he makes people laugh,
I adore him when his works are relatable,
I adore him,
When I have the secret bragging rights
Of claiming to be this teenage poet
That has to be the most confusing
Or confused teenage boy
Known to man.
|||
I adore Nameless Wonder,
Because he's the only one
That speaks for me
When the fear of judgement
Or rejection
Grips my tongue
And paralyses it:
He takes the reins of my brain,
He holds the pen like it's his baby
Because as long as he can write, he's got no bane...
And his existence
Acts as an outlet
For the thoughts
That make me feel
Uncomfortable
When they lie in my head -
Unaddressed.
YOU ARE READING
Writer's Whispers
PoetryIt's only at night that you hear the faint whispers of the writer's pen trailing paper. [COMPLETED]
