08 February 2009
i need to write poems.
no, i've been writing them all along.
my poems.
they're so poetic.
literal mostly but poetic.
they're beautiful.
but sad.
beautifully sad or sadly beautiful?
i think it's beautifully sad.
sad.
i'm sleepy but my emotions aren't fading.
my judgment's getting blurry.
and stronger.
stronger in terms of anger,
frustration.
confusion.
is it all illusions?
delusions?
which is which?
which is worse?
now i'm just being pointless.
the last few lines were meaningless.
don't bother with them.
i'm writing for the sake of writing.
it's no longer poetic, those lines.
maybe they are.
pointless.
but that's why they're there.
they're pointless.
which perhaps i might be right now.
i don't know.
told you i'm feeling sleepy.
i'm waiting for this to end.
i want to see you emerge again.
(first part of the poem to almost rhyme)
i need you to talk to me nicely.
in a happy tone.
so i won't feel bad about myself.
can you do that?
no, perhaps not.
but what the heck, right?
right.
okay then.
it ends now.
or maybe it doesn't.
does it have to?
yes, it has to.
goodnight.
sweet dreams or beautiful nightmares.
i'm sad.
1:15 AM
