Angel In the Snow

I'm sure you all (if there are any of you)

Get sick of hearing of my little obsession

With a boy, who really,

Weirds me out in a lovely way.

I know, I know, you're sick of it.

But I've given up on appeasing you all.

Sadly,

There are fixtures in our minds

That won't leave.

They get stuck in the hard-to-reach

Corners of our minds.

Like cobwebs.

Pleasant cobwebs.

An odd metaphor, but it'll do.

There's a lot I'm wanting to say.

But there is no way to say it.

I need a change of scenery.

A nice change of place

To make things interesting.

I want to fly a little bit,

A little far away.

I want to see something new.

Go somewhere,

Where the people are all strangers

And the streets aren't familiar.

A change.

Is what I'm needing.

But there is nowhere to find it.

Pissed beyond compare,

Am I.

Floating in this awfully salty sea

Where nothing is going right.

People are these horrible monsters

That eat away at my mind

Bit by bit.

What do they expect of me?

What do they want?

Why do they look at me

As though I speak gibberish?

Do I have to wait to be

"Intellectual"?

Can I feign intelligence now?

Why wait for the never-coming future.

What's left to live for then right now?

Nothing much, I suppose.

Once again,

Hemingway sums up my feelings:

"I love sleep. My life has a tendency to fall apart when I'm wake, you know?"

I think that in dreams,

We are all truly ourselves.

Nothing to hide,

Because it's all our own subconscious.

Nobody to impress.

We're all much better that way.

Fractured, fractured

This Monday is.

Often I wish I lived out at sea.

I could simply sit on the deck through day and night,

Tracking the sun and the stars.

Lost in thoughts

And poems.

Hopefully,

I wouldn't have to be all alone.

Perhaps you'll come too?

You never would.

But it's pleasant thought.

But sadly,

There are no birds that far out in the sea.