deepundergroundpoetry.com

Breakdown realisations

This small enclosed circle,
this little town, this neighbourhood,
this street, this apartment,
this body is all I understand.

Surrounded by tall pine trees
and war-time block house monstrosity's
we call our homes.

Squished and tucked in a neat little parcel,
designed by the world while I was still small,
no wonder I began to hurt once I grew tall...
so my heart aches to this very day.

Sometime's it feels like my mind knows all there is to know,
the world has no more shit to show...
but my lack of experience,
my deformed, odd shaped soul
is an anomaly
leading to depression with schizophrenic overtones,
a life spent more often than not in my own head.

The life I had lived has been selfish.
Loneliness is selfish.
It excludes existence of all good people, and creatures...
this nihilism slaps the mother of creation in the face,
proclaiming itself god.

I long to experience,
the only way one can return to sanity.