Damn, I Hate You

I finally finished three pages in my notebook, separating every line to make structure in the insanity. I tried reading over it, but I was too full of euphoria to finally get it out. It was like there was some sort of freedom to it.

Call me crazy? Poor choice of words
But what are words
In a world where people don't listen-
They are swords dulled by those who don't hear
They are blunt clubs
My words are venomous
But you have the vaccine
So how am I crazy?
Who are you to judge! You don't know me
There is no knowing
For there are no words
Other than actions- actions speak louder than words
For words are non-existant
Words are nothing.

Call me crazy? Go ahead
I can't hear you
I can't hear anything
Other than the insane song that is my world
The world of my warped and twisted mind
Or what my mind has become
As the cadence booms from the corners of my mind
Creating a song of nothing
A song of everything!
A song with no lyrics for there are no words.

Call me crazy? Call me stupid.
I am stupid.
We're all stupid
Prototypes called human beings
Abandoned by a god that we still have faith in
Abandoning ourselves and each other yet still having hope
That we could one day love
And there can be peace
There is no peace
For we have no words.

Call me crazy? There is no crazy
There is no crazy
No words to prove it
No poem as evidence
For poems rhyme
But there is no rhythm
No rhyme or reason
There's no logic in this wonderland!
More like Hell-
There is no God
For there is no Satan.
We are in Hell,
And I've yet to face any devil WORSE than people.

Call me crazy? Fuck you.
I bet now you're listening
Or at least you think you do
As I continue to speak
And continue to yell
WIth my meaningless words that remain unheard
Because all you can hear
Is what you see
And all you can see
Is a pathetic boy
Dreaming of peace
Which is nothing more than a word
In a world where words don't exist.

I felt so free once I finally finished it. I understood why it's called "free-verse"; it's a poem that you write for the sake of freedom. You are no longer bound by the chains of rhyme, you are no longer bound by sanity and understanding. You can write what you want plain as day and people will understand it.

Suddenly, I felt good. I grabbed my jacket, huddled on the roof, and hugged myself as the song in my head of breathing, beating hearts, and wind continued.