surreal poetry
Surrealist poetry embodies the essence of poetry itself, drawing upon shocking imagery and lyrical incongruities to comment on the inner-workings of the mind.
The Holey Bible
This is from an unofficial challenge from Judey Kalchik that you can read more of here in her book review Haiku. My title is deliberate. Music is "Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life" from "Life Of Brian" which is sort of relevant.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 4 months ago in Poets
It Feeds
My anxiety must be fed. It sits there, disturbed and malnourished. It thrives on chaos with the humble ability to fix anything and everything. It's starving and disastrous. It hyper focuses on what can be misconstrued and mislabeled. I will forever wonder if I ever meant to you what you meant to me. What you represented and all we could have been. I hope the silence whispers loudly to you more than I ever did. I want you to feel every bit of desperation I had that you would settle for me. I will never be worthy if I do not believe it myself. As much as I wanted peace and stability, I do not know how to instill it in myself. It's as if I do not deserve what I truly want. I cannot accept anything less than what I require. My nerves would not allow me to stay where I could not be planted, where I could not take root. I held on longer than I should have because it's not in my nature to give up even when it's inevitable. Your actions barely mattered more than your makeshift words which you often repeated only after me. I wish I could escape the hold you have on me. I can finally say my heart is indeed broken. I envisioned a truth where we could be ourselves together. But the truth put fear into you and it only made me more unsettled. You didn't put up a fight to keep me. I was released from an apprehensive state where my sleep deprived me of my nights. What would it take to finally be healed? What has been summoned inside of me? I'm not bitter, just disappointed. My heartache was wrapped up in the distance you cultivated. You had to protect yourself from what I represented also. You couldn't hold me in the same high regard I held you. Something broke inside of me that not even you could fix. I conditioned myself into accepting the bare minimum though I always gave more. What would it take to finally be enough for someone to choose me? I cannot expect this kind of devotion when I cannot give it to myself. The weight of your indifference dismantled me eventually. You displayed affection just enough to make me beg for more. You dangled hope on a string to force me to look past your hesitations. I thought what we had was sacred. That it was special and universally accepted. I was the storm chaser while you were the wind that couldn't be tethered. I need to let you be free. Let you be free of me. Life goes on with or without you. My anxiety refuses to be tamed but it cannot be the master of me. I cannot let my emotions and my fear cripple me. I have wasted decades manipulating myself into believing lies. Conspiracy theories about myself that were always untrue. My anxiety drains the life out of me. It feeds off of my energy reserves and robs me of any potential comfort. What I could still be is up to me. My anxiety must be conquered and overthrown. It cannot continue to feed on me. You couldn't stifle this desperation. You couldn't fix me nor could I fix you. It feeds but it will eventually be sated. It will humbled one day. One day, it won't be hungry anymore. The future is still yet to be grasped. I will embrace it when this anxiety is finally laid to rest
By Anna Torres4 months ago in Poets
