On string's ability to tangle:

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
free verse

(written on adderall)

Submitted: August 16, 2012

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Submitted: August 16, 2012



Every time

You catch an eye

You touch a life

Draw a line-

Lines become angles

Graphs and webs

Knots and tangles

Spelling words and regrets.

Birth, Rebirth, Life, Death

Meeting at points

Perhaps predetermined,

Likely random.

Chemistry, starting down,

The very creation of things,

It builds its way up,

Fighting religion with reason.

It namesakes the feelings

The scent sight caused emotions

The lies we call love, hate, all in-between.

Fear is a chemical,

Happiness a drug-

Content unattainable 

When you want, want, want. 

We are meant to change

Not to stay the same-

We aren't built of concrete,

Though even that will fade.

Life is short-

Lives are many

Try not to touch the wrong one-

But of those, there's plenty.

Existence, a delicate balancing act

Our minds control things

We didn't realize we'd need-

Leaving space for thinking, feeling, seeing-

Absorbing the world 

Of way too large,

Too much all at once,

My mind is now free.

Thoughts flow, allowed to be,

Fear, shame, blame, anger...

The bad rooted out,

The good can stay forever!

But each state is temporary,

And for us there's more than three,

Or four. 

What goes up shall come down

And what grows up 

May also come down

Like Newton's apple

On a possibly fictitious tree,

Or my self, personality,

Desperate and scared

Hiding from adulthood,

Reality in short,

By pretending just that,

Growing small again inside.

Helpless, Hopeless, Terrified little child.

Obnoxious and needy

Just to name a few cons

But adults, when needy

Always satisfy

Pay the price of company

However high-

An hour without pleasure, 

A half-hearted try,

Does the boy deserve this?

Boy rather than man-

Though he feels like a man

And acts like a man,

His heart is still child

Afraid like my own-

I mature and begin to see,

But ideas that become mistakes 

Still have to be made.

Though my mind says no,

And my heart goes along,

Some part of me 

(Child or Adult?)

A small part maybe,

Or the dominant part,

It seems.

Both possibilities 

As I try and try 

To quench the unending


Need to feel,

Need to be,

Need to experience,

Need to breathe, 

Need to taste, as though flavors might change,

Maybe maturity might change my taste?

A night or a morning

A pre-noon session,

A date with the devil

Followed swiftly by depression

Accompanied by sadness

Desperation, rage.

My body's a temple-

They all come and pray.

If they're holy, they enter,

This black-side religion.

Loving is fruitless-

Honesty a sin.

My forgiveness unending,

For all but myself

My sorrow, my shame,

My pain and regret-

The child knows better,

But doesn't care yet.

A feelings a feeling-

It can't be taught,

But, perhaps, it may be forgot.

Lost in the mess of things,

Or stolen by a rat,

A slice of homework,

Scribbled paper, unimportant,


Given value, by a person,

Student, teacher, peer-

A meaning, easily gained,

No work required,

Then, only then, 

Is importance granted-

Then, only then, 

Is the tragedy real-

Reality is objective,

Or possibly subjective,

The wandering mind might lie

In a separate reality-

The argument could be made,

I think, therefore I am-

What you percieve is all you know.

All you can think is that which you know-

Perhaps your reality is not my own.

Perhaps we each live

Alongside but separate,

Our minds manufacturing

Some different reality

Feelings we fake, or our bodies fake for us-

And when unreturned, a panic-

For what if the reality crumbles,

And there in the shambles of your life's lie-

The panic is justified.

A horrible truth, the only truth- 

A fact that must exist.

But unreachable, unknowable,

Ever beyond our grasp.

The Reality-

The truth of what's happening-

Untainted by thoughts, feelings, emotions,

Unfiltered by chemical reactions-

A truth.

The Truth.

A never-ending if, and, or but. 

A secret,

Worth knowing,

The right moment will appear.

We will know-truly know-

What, I can't imagine.

But it is the great What.

A good friend of the great What-If-

The void, or silence, or god-given paradise

The end from the means of life itself-

Never understood until experienced oneself-

A distant cousin of our good friend Love-

Unfathomable concept it is,

Until, one day, one minute, one moment,

It is there, upon you, within you, of you-

This feeling, the unimaginable feeling,

The complexity of grey matter, working its sweet magic.

One moment, you know it.

You love.

You are in love.

I think,

In fact,

You are love.

Call it magic, again,

But true that's a lie,

It's science, no friend.

But still a good time

The uninvited guest

Bringing every bit of gossip-

The good

The bad

The really good and really bad

The neither good nor bad

The scary and inspiring.


What being could have created this?

If real, I'd like to meet it,

Begin to comprehend it...

But indeed, if this one of many galaxies

One of thousands of sections of space-

One of millions, billions, trillions...

Infinite numbers of universes themselves-

Sans great creator, 

Plus much luck-

Somehow, miraculously,



Like the chiming of a grandfather clock,

As all the pieces click into place,


A taste of the best,

Cream of the crop,

Before swiftly,



Like cruelty is programmed into the system,

A control test, every time.


A second bed,

A home away from home.

You grow tolerant,


Harm becomes safety

In some twist of events:

The enemy becomes the friend

As though we're feuding


Faced with favorites 

Lined up straight.

Trivial but predictable


But still safe.

And in safety,

We rest

We stay.


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