The City That Can’t Be Mapped.

Every morning I wake up and push aside the curtains…
What does my world look like today?
Every day is different, in this city that’s alive.
Though it’s the same old city, all the buildings have been rearranged.
The streets I knew yesterday have become an unfamiliar maze.
The weather is a fickle beast,
Sun one day and storms the next.
Only, there is no forecast, no weather maps.
I find myself on edge every morning,
Not knowing what my world will be today.
It seems it always storms while I’m lost in the city’s maze,
And the sun only shines when I have no where to be.
As soon as I learn the city again,
It is time for it to change.
The streets switch places and the buildings swap,
Before anyone can map it.
It’s never the same arrangement twice.
We are a city of confusion,
The city of the lost.
Everything looks familiar,
Yet nothing makes any sense.
The weather teases me with sun,
But always leaves me cold.
The street seemed full of promise,
But leads to another dead end.
I am tired from the mazes,
And shivering from the rain.
I crawl into the only thing familiar,
So I can wake up and do it all again.

 

 

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Bull In A China Shop

You are the push
and I am the pull.
I am the china shop,
And you are the bull.

The never ending tug-of-war,
The countless broken shards…
This is the hand that I’ve been dealt,
But all I’ve got are shitty cards.

I’ve done the best I can
To man up and be strong.
But my very soul gets tired
From always being wrong.

I am stupid,
I am weak.
I am dramatic,
And I’m a freak.

You look down at me,
Like I am just a mess.
I’m just another button
Here for you to press.

You listen,
but you don’t really hear.
You look,
But you don’t see that clear.

I see the world in 3D,
While you see it in 2.
I hear more than just a song,
But it’s only noise to you.

Even if you read this poem,
You’d just see meaningless words.
You’d say it could be better,
And that poetry’s for the birds.

In a room full of people,
I feel utterly alone.
I am on the wrong side
Of a thick wall of stone.

I want to be someone else,
Someone who just sees facts.
Someone strong and smart,
Who isn’t full of cracks.

But I am just a broken china shop,
And no one comes here anyway.
I’ll be here picking up the pieces,
Hoping you understand some day.