The kings are laughing as the pyramids crumble. The clowns are grumpy when their audience only mumbles.
A knight with a spear. Old-fashioned and queer. His Queen doesn't even recognise him. He looks appalled and then looks just grim.
A girl with a girlfriend. Denying boys commanding her to turn around and bend. My former preacher still loves me. She's not Christian but she went to church sometimes for biscuits and tea.
I am a fox without a brain. I am so utterly vain. I cannot even make a joke out of my situation and comedy and imagination are supposed to be my coping mechanisms. This is where we get back to the crumbling prisms.
Recite me a poem, sing me a song. Feed me, watch me all day long. I am a child who never grew up. I still think I'm allowed to be corrupt.
"I'm not like the other girls"
Because you're openly a slut? Because you're gay? Every person is unique and weird in their own way. Everyone thinks they're the strangest, the different-est. So by thinking you're the only exception, you're being the most ordinary of the ordinary-est.
But do take care of yourself, love your different-ness. Oh what do I do? I want to bathe in my own glory, I want to kill myself too. Society sending mixed signals and I cannot digest them all. I just want to curl up in a ball. And stop existing for an eternity. Until life comes up with some un-contradicting and un-paradoxical sanity.
YOU ARE READING
Turquoise Emotions
PoetryI am trying to cope with my chaotic, hectic self. These are my late-night thoughts.
