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Image for the poem Come take a trip with me, but don't stay too long

Come take a trip with me, but don't stay too long

Every time elation seeped into my pours,  
I felt as if a black cloud of conviction hovered over me,    
just to reassure that I'm still in a shit storm that I call    
temporary happiness.      
     
Some may call it clinical depression;however,    
I value the notion that it's clinical awareness,    
if that's a thing that is.    
     
There are times where labelization would delve    
into the deepest crevices, penetrating my willpower,    
whenever I professed my discomfort within this    
beautiful chaos; that encompasses my neuro-circuit boards.    
     
The common trinket  of interpenetration that others gather,    
after surveying these words would most likely profess    
the general notion, "you're emotional".    
     
Being awoke,      
and not dreaming of a land of misguided promises,    
prompts the inevitable oblivious conclusion from others.    
     
Those last few words evoked bitching, didn't it;    
however, vocalizing the obvious without coming off    
as pretentious, has never been my strong suit.    
A hand dealt into a dark alleyway, eclipsing my hope.      
     
It's rather bizarre that I'm mainly attentive to    
scenarios that give birth to negativism;    
that or when someone is challenging    
my intellectual capacity.    
     
At times I ponder,    
and my thoughts leave a trail,    
to which has wandered into the    
battlefield of indecisiveness.      
     
Is where I'm from, the reason why    
I'm influenced by negativity?    
     
Do horrid things give me an adrenaline rush,    
to prove the impossible, that [I'm]possible?    
     
Sadly my mind thirsts for lackluster situations,    
rather than some positivist, because honestly    
who gets to become dressed in the polar opposite,    
bearing their trophies of euphoria?      
That's right, it's damn near a myth with me.    
Unless you're trying to drown,    
and drain away your conceptional-ism,    
on whom you've become, or rather dreaded becoming;    
that or you have those who can empathize within    
your circle of dysfunctionality.    
     
At times I'd sway left and right,    
a mirror in the wind,      
personifying mimicry that has personified    
a personality deficiency; constant identity crises.    
     
I felt as if I owed some random psychotic awareness    
comity some form of currency, for robbing adverts    
that coincide with schizophrenia.    
     
There were daunting times,      
where I felt as if Abraham Lincoln,    
and I may have been connected,    
an empathy link in a past life.    
     
Mental wars about reasoning came into fruition.    
     
"Is being a pacifist worth    
holding back a passion that could forge wars,    
and bring about equality at the same time?"
   
     
I know it sounds contradicting;    
however if you're floating on this same thought    
pattern down the lake of commonality,    
then you wouldn't be a spectator anymore,    
you'd be right next to me;    
harvesting self-worth,    
plucking out insufficiency.    
     
"The scariest monsters,    
are the ones that lurk within our souls..."
   
   
"Find what you love, and let it kill you."    
     
I keep those laconic, yet quixotic quotes    
within my pockets, as I venture on;    
reminding myself,    
to live,    
is to watch yourself      
die in a continuous loop,    
until you're comfortable    
with a certain revision of yourself.
Manley_Pointer
Written by Manley_Pointer
Published | Edited 24th Nov 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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