This poem, My Bits, is about how I act when I don’t react fast enough to isolate myself from others, to protect myself & family from my anger, frustration, emotional rollercoaster. I get so blinded & aggressive as I feel people around me are mean to me, when in reality, it’s just the opposite. It’s a process, where I’m trying to learn to breathe & isolate myself when such situation arises. Sometimes I can & sometimes I can not.
I know you feel that I screw your head with my crazy snapping bit
Just don’t misinterpret by interrupting me, you’re making me insane & very sick
Just don’t tell me to leave or zip my lyrically slippery lips
I’ll then turn everything into gloomy shades of ashes, coz I’m simply so lit
So don’t make me glare at you with my demon eyes, your ground will burn & then split
I’ll spin my twisted pen to scribble alphabe(a)ts on your sensitive skin
I’ll flip out on you if you play plain judge when you sit on that judgemental seat
I’ll mentally hammer you down under the surface with the firing words that I spit
I’ll slit you into pieces with my edgy skills if you match my level of devil so big
So stay away from me before I pour your floor with the intense flow of my bleeding ink
I do trip every now & then when I keep loosing my weakend grip
I do hit hard on my ground & damage my brain, full of spots & pits
You see, healing with time is nothing but just a believable myth
If I’d simply sit back in my pit & wait for life to turn so slick
Nothing will ever change & I’ll remain a freaking sick
I’m trying to gather my pieces in peace to make a proper fit
So I’ll keep ripping my skin to stitch every single bit
To steer my unbalanced wheels for this wicked trip with no tricks
I promise, I’m gonna be around for the family in thick & thin
Jitter & sparks in my messy circuit but there’s no switch yet to make me quit
—– My Bits —–
My Bits is a poem, where I’m trying to gather myself after being provoked to the monstrous level. It’s like I get blinded by my rage & then it’s very difficult for me to come out of it, especially, if others try to match my noise level. I’m suggesting others to back off when I’m in this red zone. Talking about consequences, ordering me, raising voice or similar in that moment would only make the situation worse.
In the second half of the poem My Bits, it shows how I’m learning to observe the silence closely before the storm hits, to control my snapping. Writing poetry & talking about such matters openly, helps me to heal faster and it helps others to understand to a certain extent how I see the world when I feel imbalanced, angry, insane, numb & very sick at the same time.
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A poem… Trip-Track. Words are simply flowing in me. I feel such a crazy need to scribble this poem. I’m sensing something at subconscious level. I can feel, I’m going to walk on a burning track soon. I don’t know why I feel that. I’m perhaps connected to The Almighty, which is telling me something is coming my way. So better “pack your baggage”.
Looking closely into my baggage to check what to upkeep
Unkeen to bring the new & to loose a few old things
The new is asking me to embrace but I’m hesitant to see & let it stay
The old is hiding with a different face but I ain’t desperate to find & let it phase
Excited to explore but anxiety is tricking me
Wondering if the heart will remain inside of me
Speculating if I’ll find peace when my rest would be in pieces
Questioning if I’ll rip my heart out, would my soul then R.I.P.?
The necessary, I must absorb & digest on the way of waves
And the rest must pass through me without any claims
The tracks will for sure burn my body consciously
To leave my naked marks as the permanent prints eventually
Surrender, Acceptance, Faith, Existence are the treasures in my S.A.F.E. of open space
What You Believe Is What You See is the reality I believe & resonate
It’s a trip filled with mindful & mind full tracks that I walk while I levitate
The tracks on this trip that I play, are the forms of my life that I live & meditate
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© 2019 Navin’s Poetry. All rights reserved.