Claritas

I’m here
I’m listening to your sounds
I’m feeling your crushing waves
of absolute force and precision
warning me to get down on my knees
and brave the chaos before the calm
and I’m here listening
to everything you have said
only to see where you are ahead
the form in the distance
coming closer and beckoning for color
anything that will make your plight
appear more palpable before sense
yet I attain truth before your arrival
and see everything with new eyes
a new soul, a new mind
the force with which I try to understand
yet cannot come to terms with
as it is so overwhelmingly beautiful
this clarity of the senses
a justification for all that has happened
to appreciate everything
and expect nothing
and see that above the skies
all else is simply noise.

Level

Fuck your lack of maturity,
your senile insecurities,
your indecency toward others,
your blatant ignorance,
your frosty intellectualism,
your mundane routines,
your frugal whims,
your adolescent oblivion,
your social discomforts,
your discombobulated dreams,
your subpar influences,
your selfish tendencies,
your narrow trains of thought,
your disrespect for yourself.

Fuck you.
I don’t need your shit.

Meow

I don’t know how to be less.
I don’t know how to change the colors in my closet.
I don’t know how to eat grapes.
I don’t know how to take it slow.
I don’t know how to take a proper vacation.
I don’t know how to play the mandolin.
I don’t know how be with another person.
I don’t know how not to embarrass myself.
I don’t know how to like condiments.
I don’t know how to be confident.
I don’t know how to be desirable.
I don’t know how to go on a diet.
I don’t know how to step down.
I don’t know how to converse for extended periods of time.
I don’t know how to be less anxious.
I don’t know how to be my age.
I just don’t know, darn it.