I have many friends, or should I say acquaintances.
They are nice people.. but are not of substance, dont get me wrong.. they do have substance but just not the one Im so maniacally and madly attracted to.
I have tried entering in their conversations.. but my efforts have never been of fruition. They are not bad people, they're just not my kind of souls.
Everyone has a type of soul right?
Some have the introvert,
Some the extrovert,
But what about the people in between,
Who are the most open and vulnerable people when they are with persons who's souls attract and oppose theirs just enough for the interest in their talks to be alive, but at the same time are so shy that even the deep aquatic beings, so hidden from this world, are more visible.
Oh, Im sorry.. I got distracted there for a minute..
Back to what I was saying...
These people feel empty to me and I may seem empty to them..
But none of us are.
We are just different.. and we talk about different things...
They talk about other people..
And I talk about other worlds..
Im not good at making small talk..
Ive never been and I dont think I ever will be.. its not in me.
What I am good at are the talks you have at 3 in the morning.
The talks where you feel.
And hear,
And see,
I have been waiting for someone to talk to me about the world like how I think of it..
Oh how I would just melt into this stardust goo,
This stardust that we are made of,
This stardust that makes us feel bigger than we are, like an asteroid.. ready to hit this world with our thoughts..
What should I say to people for them to realise that what I crave for is the mind of a thoughtful and thought provoking person.
How can I say this, without sounding crazy? Without sounding like a psycho?
Or should I not say anything... and just ignore the words that my soul is so violently and murderously screaming in me, at me.
If I was ever found dead.. it'd been at the hands of my soul.
Chewing me up from the inside out..
Crawling its way up my chest and into my brain..
Drowning me with these hidden waves of words.
Choking me with a noose named silence.
YOU ARE READING
The Psyche Of Mine
Poetry**** I've never really known how to move, where to see or what to feel.. But sometimes, I have moved enough to be alive, I have seen enough to not go blind, And I have felt words enough to feel.. **** **** Its my first time properly penning down m...
