Am I a Poet?

I'm not a poet of words
more of madness
of reaching into the unknown subconscious
seeking to dredge something out of the depths
I don't wax poetic
just describe my feelings as best I can
feelings I can't capture in its entirety
the rhythm of my thoughts beating, badump

What you want

Contracts and negotiations

set the foundation for clarity

and satisfaction

or at least to settle.

If you don't know what you want

or you don't ask for it

you are open to disappointment.

Understand what you want;

seek what you want;

you deserve 

to be content.

Something else please

When you do the same thing

over and over

it gets boring.

Ergo I need to do something else.

Please.

A room in my dreams

There's a room in my dreams

where I keep my hopes and fears.

They come into consciousness

through whimsy or through experiences

too imperceptible from reality,

experiences that are underlined

by feelings I'm not able to know.

These dreams keep me from rest,

a locked chest in this room

that I must pick every time

I seek peace, serenity.

Sometimes the chest is left unlocked,

the being that seeks to thwart me

easing in its restlessness,

granting me respite.

But always it returns,

unsettled by the days I have,

my travails and burdens

that I constantly accumulate.

So I linger outside the door
even though I yearn
for the contents sealed inside.
For the fear overflowing
seeps out under the door gap
flooding onto the carpet
getting my shoes wet.
Hopes stained, adulterated,
its call for calmness, quietude
heeded only in desperation.

Feel something

I'm blind to the things I feel
Everything blurring and fuzzing together
A buzz, low hum of tension
Muffling my mind and making me question
If there really is something beneath it
Or is this all there is.
This nameless sensation that confuses me
Making me question
Whether I am feeling anything at all
Making me want to
Feel something

Self-acceptance?

once upon a time,
I was someone
else, who thought
different things
and felt different ways
and wanted a different life.
Now I'm someone else
with different
thoughts, feelings, wants,
and that's okay
I think

Dead Leaves

It's just a song
to be remembered
Long storied sighs
Time passing by

We lived alone
Partly together
Bound by our eyes
Stars in the sky

But the world conspires
Against all lovers
Pulling apart
With no regret

And the tides of change rise up and covers
The days that the world will forget