L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N.

I have constant chills of this bittersweet emotion,

Filled with so much content masked by the restlessness

Of my fluttering soul.

Somewhere between singing and crying,

And jumping from windows,

I am here

And I am needing to say things,

This desperate need to spill my soul,

Oh the ink on the page,

My blood.

And I have this burning desire to scream,

And go mad.

It's so beautiful.

I could cry for all the right reasons right now.

I could collapse under the weight

Of the immense stress

Right here,

I could sprawl on the floor in a fit of contempt,

Stark madness.

For I am so split,

So confused and propelled,

Inspired.

Compelled to do everything.

Stay up all night,

And just laugh.

All alone in the dark,

Oh! It is so joyous,

To know nothing

And everything.

I know what I want.

But it is impossible to procure.

Everyday I come closer to knowing,

Beyond the shadow of a doubt,

What I want,

With all of my expanding soul

And shuddering mind.

To BE.

To be like the greats,

The rebels and thinkers

The ones who knew without knowing.

To be like Ginsberg, Kerouac, everyone.

My greatest fear, the greatest,

Is to lose the ambition to become that person.

For my love and passion to fail me.

This desire that ravages my mind in my waking hours,

And lurks in my sleeping ones.

To succumb to the art completely and totally.

What is it?

To be taken over by poetry?

To be wrapped in art?

My desire seems so unattainable.

And despite your words,

I still worry, and stress over this looming future.

College.

Jobs and practicality.

What would happen if I lived on this impulse?

To be what I can only desire?

A member of my own reality.

With "L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N." on repeat,

And the promise of the rest of my life laid in front of me,

I feel so overwhelmingly confident.

How could this be?

A feeling if control?

Bittersweetly wonderful.

And I know, I'll wake up tomorrow and it'll all be the same,

But I'll live vicariously through my love affair with poetry.

And we'll make through this.

And you.

Who speaks calmly,

And asks me "What am I going to do? You know, when I grow up?"

What I wouldn't give to have you in my life.

Beyond this.

Where we can wake up in a small apartment, happy?

Living out our lives together,

And you'll wake up and make the coffee,

I'll watch you from the bedroom

And it'll be grand.

Simple things,

You know?

Somehow,

The world seems less scary

When you're on this sort of high.

Regardless of the cash I'll be feeling later,

I feel great now,

And I regret nothing.