forgive me for my lack of words.

although i may be shouting to an empty hall,

it is hard to tell through wires and typing.

my head is jumbled up;

a shower is necessary to wipe out the fog

it was suicidally beautiful. it made you want to run off a cliff and dive into the ocean.

 watching them is a form of punishment and delight at the same time;

 a personal purgatory for the living.

tender rejoice at the emotional uprising.

 a quick momentary euphoria, 

covered by the poker face of a champion.

 wild on the inside, a funeral on the outside.

 dichotomous,

 the key to a split life.

 one of both pleasure and sorrow.

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and i could easily tell you what i'd like to be.

 starry-eyed girl-next-door.

 the one you wanna hold in the sun and watch her peaceful dreams.

 this girl seems to crumble before my eyes into a stubborn whirl-wind of dark matter.

 thrashing and punching the pillows and sheets.

 the only cure for the complete breakdown into chaos?

 your warm body around me, 

holding me close as my exorcism comes to a halt. 

you blow the demon out of my soul and i fall into bliss once more.

I have come to realize that my unique perception of the world around me is a gift,

 in the form of words unspoken.

 good nightmare, sweet child.

can we define originality?

 i am myself, 

yet my ideas and thoughts are ultimately influenced by others.

 can i claim anything as my own?

 perhaps a citation is necessary in my grocery list and thank you letters;

 a works cited page that could wrap around the equator thrice

 and still have room before bedtime.

 now is the ultimate quest to find the origin:

 the big bang of thought,

 of existence.