I found myself.

Is there anyone who understands me?

Found myself

…

I found myself allergic

to sweet whisperings in my ear

to listening to his heartbeat

to his touch

to his eyes.

I found myself allergic to people

to love.

Why you ask?

One day you take their breath away

next day you see them smelling their new gal's hair.

Ew.

It's actually disgusting

how hard we hold onto the illusion

of some human being

loving us, and only us.

I found myself strongly opinioned

and no, darling, you're not gonna change my mind

no, I don't need your help

or that sweet, but fake smile of yours

I found myself walking down the street

going home

with an empty mind

so, so empty

closing my eyes

inhaling cold breeze

letting it fill my lungs

and my whole body as well.

I found myself at home

looking at Monet's sunshine

it's almost like I can see him

sitting in a chair, gazing at the Sun

and I swear I can hear

the brush sliding on his canvas

just as well I can see Bukowski

drowning in alcohol

typing timeless words

the sound pierces me

just as his words.

I found myself wondering

about those briliant minds,

and somewhere between all that

admiring and gazing at their works

I fell in love with them.

I found myself in love with art. With the world we live in. With every molecule, every atom that pushed them so hard to create that.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I do understand the poem.
"I found myself in love with art. With the world we live in. With every molecule, every atom that pushed them so hard to create that."
I love the writer, poet, singer and the artist. The beauty of creation make us know. Life is more than us. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[David Scott]

Oh my, how I love the flow of this poem. You start out with a vivid lament. Toxic emotions poisoning the state of mind.
Then, you transition out of your introspection and start to see, or rather experience art, and the transition begins! Love is born from the seed of observation.
I really like the thought of hearing Monet paint... Fantastic.
One of my favorite reads of late.

[Gah Yan]

I like this. The character never finds his or herself, but father finds himself doing or feeling things. It makes me wonder what self identity really is. Is it what we do? How we feel? Interests? or are all people fundamentally the same? I loved the honest tone. No I will never understand you.