oh that i could...

oh that i could
write an emblem of my mind
a script from my juvenile thoughts
that i could put on print
something different.
an anti-cliche.

when i write
exactly what i think,
the words are commonplace
and they read illy.
it discourages my heart
and makes me sad.

in a reverie of extreme anguish
joy
anger.
i do not think in synonyms
i think merely in plain
letters. no complex sentence structures.

but if i blanket those words
in lavender smoke.
and i attempt to insert a copper tube
into my eye, to suck out a small amount of my emotion.
suddenly, metaphors and strange language
seep out in fragrant liquids.
i must compress my emotions
and squeeze them with my rough fingers

i must ball them up and throw them against the wall.
and then i pick up the remains.
rearrange them
and then.
only then am i satisfied.
only then do i have hope.

-Pamplemousse