Metaphors, Euphoria and Paranoia
Here I am-- again
Grabbing my pen, scribbling my pain
Into bleeding and excruciating words
That might end up killing me.
Damn, I need to let this out!
I need to release all the dramas and doubt.
My pen cries of simile again
Fighting considerately in vain,
Creating make-believe stories,
Drowned in almost vivid memories.
I try to ensconce myself
In awesome poems and proses
While gripping thorny roses
Trying to fix my broken self.
Metaphors that speak euphoria,
Rhymes that sound like paranoia,
Stanzas full of painful battles
Writing frustrations with beautiful titles--
Out of melancholy or perhaps emptiness--
I locked my soul in unreal happiness.
I opted to unspoken dialogues
Where I never have second thoughts on monologues.
This is how I silently wept.
This is where my thoughts are kept.
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