Nomad

My nomad,
my lovely stranger;
your face is kind and sweet.
What do you want to eat?

Fellow nomad,
my good acquaintance;
your eyes are deceiving.
What am I believing?

Darling nomad,
my most honored companion;
your lips defy me--your tongue is twisted.
By nature have you been cold-fisted?

Lover nomad,
my dear, my partner, my love!
I don't want to say it's true;
Who are you?


Question... who did I fall in love with? This describes relationships at the beginning, when lovers hardly know each other and start relationships without fear. It's only when we get to know somebody that we realize if that person is truly right for us. My nomad... my wanderer. Do I still love you?

Catharsis

So delicate and blind,
this tranquil piece of glass,
weeping above a table top
while brimming with both water and emptiness.
No ears to hear,
No faces to see,
but only intuition and faith
(of a god, perhaps).
Yet elegant, the noise,
the tremor
the shuffling
the rambling
the thrashing--
a Paroxysm of a foreign stranger!
The floor can only dance with so much repulsion
as the walls clamor with equal, but dainty, defiance.

And the glass?
No mercy.
Break-wall-shatter,
glitter and ice;
that elixir is doomed upon the floor,
the water clinging on to such delicate barriers
behind glass chambers...



Hmm... After I cried today, I just felt like writing a poem describing how I would cry so easily. I don't know if you're able to compare the glass to my personality, but yeah... that's what I'm trying to convey. Basically I feel like my ability to control my tears is as thin as the glass that holds the water within... and that unexpected surprises (like that earthquake in the poem) can cause the glass to fall and shatter, water spreading everywhere.
And I know this probably sounds really weird right now... but I was just inspired to write this. I guess the poem sounds emo, but I really don't mean it to be.
But please... don't lie to me. I don't want you to pretend like what I tell you is consoling you when it actually isn't. I don't understand what it's like to commute, and you don't understand how it's like to dorm. I guess I got upset over that whole argument since you seemed to regret your college choice so much, and I wanted to help you feel better...but, like you said, since I felt as if I wasn't of much help, I got a bit sad, I suppose.
I'm just a glass of water, and I can break down easily...

But like you said... it's not stupid to be like this; it's just part of "who I am", which is true...

...There's no use crying now. I just wanted to vent. And I often feel inspired when I have emotions like this.