Poem: Untitled

When pictorical images form into thoughts
Thoughts from into words…
Words form into… Into…

What do you make of me?
Just shy of a tall stature of five feet
How does the eye judge me
Does your third eye blink with curiosity?

You’ve already seen me, judged me
Made me, loved me, hurt me, craved… me
But before my words greet your ears
The mind has cooked up a line of perpetual fears

Trust me, love me, need me, breath… me

But I am a misunderstood soul
And the words that flow from my lips
Through to your mind
Become an entanglement
Chords that cannot untwine

When words from into thoughts
Thoughts form into pictorical images…
Pictorical images form into… into…

When did my words
Paint distorted images
That sparked creative juices
Inside your chimerical mind
To form thoughts.. to form…

You’ve created this wonderment to be me
My eyes your sight
With my hand you write
Creating a crime scene of lies, I’m now anticipating
The feeling, the break of our hearts now dissipating

Still frames of my persuasion
You’ve broken my sentences down
Like an algebraic equation
Taking line 1 minus line 4
Adding line 3 to the 5th degree
Trying to find that point of equilibrium
But instead things digress to a state of delirium

And now the thoughts you’ve formed
Have created delusional images
My words now morph- deformed
Here, once again, I am a soul misunderstood