Confessions of an Adult Angst Queen

Today, I thought I'd showcase another one of my poems. So, I'll write it and then I'll do the analysis/discussion.

The Garden of My Heart

Sometimes I think I have no heart
Life is fast
I try to run like it does
It's just chance

Sometimes my brain is a broken stadium
The speed is up to me
Only ruin and room are left
That's my choice

Sometimes I think my nerves are shot
It's fear
That keeps me clenching my fists
Only rejection

Sometimes I don't feel anything
Then everything
It's my head blame crowns
They're my eyes

Sometimes I don't know what to say
But say something
The consequences make my head burn
The question is, why?

Sometimes someone asks me about it
My heart
I think, "Of course, I have none."
Every heartbeat

Sometimes my chest feels tight
A bloody nose
The control room is broken
So is my heart

Sometimes the black gate opens
There's no blood
Only the wilderness that grows
And grows

Sometimes I think of trimming it back
Ordering order
Where would the butterflies hide
My secrets?

Sometimes I lean back in my chair
And I know
Why lilting music flows in me
My heart

This is one of my most angst-ridden poems, not that it's especially violent, but it does discuss in detail all the things that are wrong with me. And even I feel that it drags in places, as I tend to write things that are more precise than this, but I don't have the mind to remove any of the verses, even though it would probably make the poem superior, because like I said, it describes very clearly all the things that are wrong with me.

I have to be perfect, and I'm not. As for the rest, I'll let you guess. But regardless of all that, I think this poem could offer quite a few insights for someone who doesn't get a play-by-play of what I was thinking when I wrote it. Enjoy.