What's Wrong With Me?

A Poem by Davidgeo

.

i eat ideas

i use the black

as my perfect stage

have you ever been there?

into the nothing

have you ever used it?

as your dear something

tell me of your pain

let us compare

i can show you reasons

why it does not matter

i live to die

i use this pain

i eat that loss

for my, motivation

there is a use

but there is no cure

there is a purpose

called our fervent reason

we exist to eat

we exist to f**k

we exist to bleed

we exist to die

so there is to hope

but there are two shades

one sun one moon

we live in this light

cast upon

flesh machines

making bloody thoughts

dreaming exotic nights

from individual reason

and some play music

so some write poems

and some paint pictures

but most do nothing

but there is no difference

and there never was

as cause exceeds us

even the most important

is not one thing

like ink in water

like snow in deserts

like air in space

all it will dissolve

just give it time

nothing will last

and there is no memory

in the earth's demise

all it does is it will end

not with a sound

not with a shape

just a residue

of time and space

© 2021 Davidgeo

Author's Note

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Featured Review

Chris Shaw

Your ink in water I saw in slow motion. It took me back to school where I struggled with ink blots and a useless school pen because I couldn't afford a decent fountain pen. My stories marred by ink blots and teacher's red pen circling them.

I know black so that's why I try to stay near the light.

'What' s wrong with me'? I do believe that is a question most of us ask ourselves at times during our lives.

Chris