Hollow Frames

Thu, 01/19/2017 - 19:29 -- Mateos

Sturdy notes glide down the stairs

Landed behind the door that marks BRAIN.

A shuffle so query seen behind thick lens that are not clear.

A crack too far great with no thought to spare.
Water drains underneath the sulky fountain.

Cold fingers are broken for they have written too much despair.

 

I breathe in the lost life they named for me;  

Too busy to know I have something else in mind.

I ripped out every part of my heart for a sheet to use.

The numbers continue to wear down my back.

My life sits on the very edge of a book.

I seek my passion behind close doors and zero fame.

I trudge deeper than what the hands allow me to.

To align one’s matter for a process they will gain,

A strong lump that beats is what i will suffice.

 

Now, eager to swim along the empty sea.

Hours or minutes, I don’t care to think.

I have opened the gate that sealed my garden.

Let there be roses to bloom love,

Sunflowers to reach enough joy,

And regret to float away among dandelions.

 

Reflections fade along the year of change.

Motivation is what I lacked before

But now is my main energy core.

My image outlines inspiration for a career I want to attain.

I carry the weaknesses to help me

Cherish my strengths throughout my life.

Bones are structures that will soon erode,

But red coated firecrackers rest inside all of us.

A nature so bounded yet strange between me and you.

I see needles and knives held between rubber gloves carved in the future.

Beeps of green, blue, and red will be my alarm to wake for another person’s day.

Wonders frozen upon my head melts my curiosity when I seek

My obligation to stand besides the need lying on the white, cold sheets.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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