Effect, Affect, Infect
tear-filled eyes
sweaty palms
a horse voice
weakened limbs
a quickened heartbeat
how could I speak?
"others" have called poetry the medicinal god/goddess of the 21st century
- but not me.
lately
poetry hasn't been feeding me
lately
poetry hasn't been the thirst-quencher
yet I never starve or desire to drink
it is not even about my reaction to his poetry
(and yes I wrote a poem titled "My Reaction to His poetry")
it did not cut me as deep
yet I bled, well I bleed
it did not color anything for me, my personality and temperaments have not changed
yet I can see these beautiful dark green trees, well I am slowly seeing
- i love being surrounded
embraced by a chilling breeze
yet i am running out of the forest of my mind screaming
the constant screaming is why my voice is hoarse
yes, that is why my eyes are tear-filled
being coerced and manipulated and deceived by the happenings of love
this explains my faster heartbeat - it skips, no it gallops, well it sprints
and then my weak limbs..
as my desire and "say so" grows
other parts of my being, mainly my limbs, become weak
here am I (according to "others" vulnerable but not naive
blasting music, cramming for exams, and venting to strangers about him)
but I am.
his love
the effect
affected me... (according to "others" infected me)
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