Lo siento.
Like, low I feel
Like I feel it
Like I'm sorry.
Por que?
For what?
what for a season?
Dame un razón or a razor,
and I will cut clean into us two.
So bésame, abrázame, screw it, mátame
because without you it doesn't matter to me.
Like my germanic antic
fails to manage a mind this manic
and my frantic tongue finds follie in a language romantic,
knowing it not, due to the taste and haste of panic.
No, I can't break the ice I'm like an organic titanic,
slowly sinking in the chill northern atlantic.
I just want to sleep.
Sólo quiero dormir.
Alone to pass through a door mere inches from my face.
into a land of fantasy y fantasmas.
This world, este mundo.
Is woefully mundane
it brings not literal but liturgical pain,
to live an existence so plain
with minds trapped in frames
souls and spirits subject to societal contrains.
No. No, I refuse to live as the man in chains,
I refuse to keep these ideas locked up in my brain,
So I guess I might be insane.
Can we make that a refrain?
Yes. I guess I might be insane,
because I want to speak in languages I don't know,
because I want to smell the soft scent of summer in sleet and snow,
because I want to plant a birch in the dark and then watch it grow.
Write love letters on its skin, set it ablaze, I hope you like the show.
Watch the smoke go winding through the wind
whilst whining soft hymns
as off to heaven it goes.
I guess I might be insane,
because for me the message here is quite plane,
I want you in a way that is not tame,
but say nothing and reasons like razors are to blame,
reasons like not knowing the rules to your game,
reasons that dont stop me from wanting to play,
I guess I might be insane.
'Cause there's this pounding in my head that I can barely explain
growing louder tumultuous over the words that I say,
it's like the reasons are pounding against one thought:
"I have nothing to lose and everything to gain."
The bouncing reasons have me shaking like tracks beneath a train.
But I'd better go to sleep now,
lest you think me insane.
Poet's note: I don't know how I feel about the title of the poem it might change.
Like, low I feel
Like I feel it
Like I'm sorry.
Por que?
For what?
what for a season?
Dame un razón or a razor,
and I will cut clean into us two.
So bésame, abrázame, screw it, mátame
because without you it doesn't matter to me.
Like my germanic antic
fails to manage a mind this manic
and my frantic tongue finds follie in a language romantic,
knowing it not, due to the taste and haste of panic.
No, I can't break the ice I'm like an organic titanic,
slowly sinking in the chill northern atlantic.
I just want to sleep.
Sólo quiero dormir.
Alone to pass through a door mere inches from my face.
into a land of fantasy y fantasmas.
This world, este mundo.
Is woefully mundane
it brings not literal but liturgical pain,
to live an existence so plain
with minds trapped in frames
souls and spirits subject to societal contrains.
No. No, I refuse to live as the man in chains,
I refuse to keep these ideas locked up in my brain,
So I guess I might be insane.
Can we make that a refrain?
Yes. I guess I might be insane,
because I want to speak in languages I don't know,
because I want to smell the soft scent of summer in sleet and snow,
because I want to plant a birch in the dark and then watch it grow.
Write love letters on its skin, set it ablaze, I hope you like the show.
Watch the smoke go winding through the wind
whilst whining soft hymns
as off to heaven it goes.
I guess I might be insane,
because for me the message here is quite plane,
I want you in a way that is not tame,
but say nothing and reasons like razors are to blame,
reasons like not knowing the rules to your game,
reasons that dont stop me from wanting to play,
I guess I might be insane.
'Cause there's this pounding in my head that I can barely explain
growing louder tumultuous over the words that I say,
it's like the reasons are pounding against one thought:
"I have nothing to lose and everything to gain."
The bouncing reasons have me shaking like tracks beneath a train.
But I'd better go to sleep now,
lest you think me insane.
Poet's note: I don't know how I feel about the title of the poem it might change.
This turned out differently than i had anticipated, but i like the direction that you went in even more than my previous expectation. :P I feel like maybe a new title would be a good idea, i like the original title you gave it, but i feel like you finish the poem giving off a different point. i don't know haha i need to read it a few more times lol :P
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