Something different. Since the majority of my poems are scribbled decoratively in my sketchbook or loose paper, I thought I would include it's original format, instead of boring bits of text.


In case you can't read the poem part, this is what it says:

A symposium of feeling,
make me a marionette,
tangled in thread you have tied to me,
please make your entrance,
visions that swathe,
I am eager and waiting,
trivial are the thorns embedded,
your softness is inviting.

These lines have been open,
For quite some time,
And the conversation is getting heavy,
Incinerating, like a slow coal fire,
The idea is burning in the back of my head,
Nostalgia is appetizing,
Where’s the harm when we’ve been there before?
I know all your escapades,
But it doesn’t make a difference,
Let’s disregard the consequences,
And bask/marinate in our glory,
When I need a shoulder,
You use your sleeve to dry my eyes,
Complete the cylinder,
I’ve become quarry to your intonation,
I can’t eradicate this phenylethylamine path.