if no one will pay attention to me,
then i'll lock myself away and write more poetry
the vastness of the internet
resembles an intensely large ear
to which i may tell my secrets and heartache
without a body to belong to or a brain,
i needn't worry about how my words
are perceived;
just knowing they are received by someone,
something
is enough
i'll harp on melodically and tragically,
much like the eloquent language of an actual harp,
until the entirety of my current emotional state
has been examined, molded, displayed,
expelled,
exhausted
replayed

i was driving home when a flash of lightning reflected
in my rear-view mirror,
brilliant enough to pull me out of whatever zone i was in
it reminded me of the way that you enter my mind-
always bursting out of darkness, calmness;
never giving any warning other than a low, rumbling thunder
too soft for me to pick up on
not that this occurrence is at all your fault..
it's simply my mind's way of dealing with a subject
as dangerous, tainted, and flawed as you
subconsciously, somehow, i just know
that you should not be brought up gradually,
but rather quick as lightning-

a radiant flash and then nothing,
stillness

if only something so simple could actually take place
no, instead,
the flash remains, burning into my field of vision,
much like when all you can see is a blurry, yellow spot
after someone takes your picture
or when you can't take your eyes off of a sunset
because it is so beautiful, but you know it won't last,
so you watch it melt for as long as you can
before it slips beneath the horizon

it seems that the more i try to explain it, the more confusing it becomes,
so i will leave it at this:
you are the lightning to my tree;
you strike with the potential to make me burst into flames
and you don't even know it