Understand.
That's what I want.
I want to understand them.
I want to be understood.
I'm an antenna.
Sending and receiving.
But I'm bent and broken.
Mixing the wrong signals.
Understand,
I wish I could.
But I can't.
I can't perceive myself.
I'm a broken TV.
My channels in a cycle,
Always changing,
Not stopping.
I'm not just black and white,
I'm bright and dark,
Colorful and monochrome,
Intelligent and not.
Slow to think.
Quick to react.
Determined to achieve.
Too tired to act.
I contradict myself.
I bring myself together.
I'm always alone,
But my mind is there for me.
I have my secrets,
Though most weren't kept.
I don't have someone for every story,
I only have myself.
Having a conversation,
And responding to everything,
Whether I'm alone,
Or around others.
It's my coping mechanism.
It's my therapy.
I can't stand solutions that aren't my own,
So I fix myself alone.
Bent and broken,
But still functioning.
Not working for myself,
But working for the world.
An ironic contradiction.
I fix myself for myself,
Yet work for not myself.
A silly child I am.
I don't think I'm bipolar.
I can't be mentally ill,
I'm too young.
Yet mood swings aren't right either.
It's light a lightning storm,
Striking my TV,
Frying my motherboard,
Yet not killing me.
Working not with power,
But with soul.
Functioning spontaneously,
Instead of calculated.
But it all leads back to one thing.
The broken antenna.
It must be fixed,
I must see clearly.
But I don't have a mechanic,
And I'm stuck with a metal hanger.
I try to fix my antenna,
But I can only hold it for so long.
YOU ARE READING
Random Poems
PoetryWell, Everyone Else Has One, It Seems. Most Of These Poems Will Have My Art Drawn At The Top. Others Will Be Of Pictures I Googled.
