Member Poem

Time stands still when you’re living in Limbo.

Everything rushes past in a colorful blur that I don’t want to disturb.

No one seems to notice that I’m unable to move from this place.

I’m self-rooted here; Growing strong enough to be transplanted;

Soon this garden won’t matter anymore.

I can’t fall in love. I’m leaving.

I can’t fall in lust. I’m too weak.

My heart pulls too strongly and my mind is too meek.

I can see the potential in you.

I can feel the pain and I can know we would be mesmerizing.

No, I think I’ll leave you planted there.

You’re too pretty to die…

...a decoration on my headpiece along with all the others,

Only there to dress me up for a day when it all actually matters.

I’ll raise you up with my blinding aura, and

I’ll destroy you with my potential.

I’m cursed and one day the spell will be lifted, but you are not my prince.

Time is my prince; his sword foraged in the flames of focus.

Every place i haven’t touched is a blow that will set me free.

At the end of this chapter, nothing matters.

You’ll be written out.

Bombs don’t detonate at the source;

My Limbo isn’t yours.

Maybe you’ll come back to me one day and let me undo all the damage that i cause,

Because while I won’t mean to hurt you, I’ve never forgotten where I am.

Trepidation swells with each new fork that splits.

For something that doesn’t matter, you are so familiar...

But my path is my armor. Don’t come any closer - I’ll forget what I’m doing here.

So sure...

Let me use you like a practice dummy;

Let me learn from your criticisms;

Let me take in your praise;

It will all be useful in my next life.

En route to nirvana, with so many stops to go.

There’s no point falling in love with the man on the train.

How do you keep your heart in a cage,

And how does it keep escaping?

These prison blueprints offer no solace.

Without knowing how you feel,

How can i call myself selfish?

Without asking, how can I blame myself when it all starts to burn?