u/Embarrassed_Thing643

Something feels out of place.

My words like my ribs
Slipping and sliding
Until they take a new shape.
One i didn’t intend
And brings only pain in the end.

Something feels out of place.

If you see the world the way i do, you think of life in poems. Your mind always proposing that the low hum is something worth composing. But if not, just be glad that isnt a trait you got. Because the app with all my notes is full of songs i wrote being far too self aware. You can blend and blur without a care. Have a passing thought and still breathe air.

I dig to deeper layers and the words become a riddle. The puzzle is the player and i the fiddle. But still i must dig because the game is a rig. No such thing as satiation. It’s a compulsion— this selfish introspection. A perversion of the English language that twists words and meaning like pipe cleaners into salvation.

If you think of life the way i do, then your world must be very, very blue. And pink. And green. Because you find color in what the words mean. But the colors fade when you dont feel seen. Back to blue until the next riddle finds you.