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I can't even put my life into a poem anymore

The constant twists and turns

Won't fit into a stanza of any length

And all of this chaos

Refuses to be contained into meters and words

And instead it swirls in my mind

Reeking havoc in the confined space of my tiny existence 

So what the fuck do I do

When the only thing I know how to

Is write poetry

And scream into the void of humanity?

I used to be able to bend metaphors and phrases

Like thin, green daisy stems

But my blossoms have recently charred from the sun that is my impatient longings

And they turn to ash in my pale fingers

I used to be a visionary

The one soul that wasn't programmed to serve society

And now I don't know what I am

I guess now I'm just another human

Stumbling through life

And bumping into other meaningless bodies

On the street

Like a hunk of flesh that's only objective

Is to keep going

Even if there's nothing at the end of the road

All I've ever wanted to do was lead a revolution

And now I can't even bring myself to give my opinion

I hate being alive 

Because I'm not even living

And instead of being distraught that my time is running out

I'm desperate for the clock to put something on my plate

That isn't leftovers 

I've never been good at puzzles

And all of these jagged pieces before me,

These shattered remains of what I've come to call a life,

Cut me when I try to pick them up

When I try to make some sort of a picture out of them

My fingers are covered in scars

And I haven't even connected two pieces 

It's hard to feel anything 

After being thawed out of the ice

That I've been frozen inside for so long

If this is the real word

Then I want to go back to whatever dream I was living in

Because I obviously don't fit in here