Construed Tics and Tocs

What is the value of eternity?
Is there a price to pay for time?
Desperate for the chance to see you smile again
Would an offer of my life be enough?
Who has the cell number of posterity?
How do I call her to bear me witness?
I swore an oath to Kronos to keep his biddings
But let the sands slip through my fingers in the heat of chaos
Friendships are worth the measure of time spent
The quality of memories created, the strength of the bonds formed
So the best friendships should last several lifetimes
Yet, here I am estranged by only thing I could call my own
At what point is the end of a circle, what is the dimension of time?
How is eternity valued?
Staring at shooting stars with my soulmate
Alas, it was dead, just like our love was.

Satirical Balladry

Poetry is funny.
How it is a jumble of words.
An attempt by a person to sound deep.
To convey an emotion the audience never felt.
Poetry is a lie.
It’s you swearing you can read the meaning behind a line.
“My calyces – which are my eyes – blossomed in eternal praise.
The first day my heart spoke your name”.
Poetry is weird.
How a young girl writing her suicide note and someone commenting on how beautiful it is.
It’s rebellion, love, anguish, creativity.
Turning humour into a food for thought.
Poetry is for losers.
And boring people – or at least that’s what you say.
Why is the smell of the rain singing lyrics to your ex’s heart rhythm?
That makes no sense.
Poetry is really funny.
But my life isn’t.
Poetry is dumb, and so am I.
So it’s a wonder how this is a wonder to you.
My poems are shitty.
A constellation of penned down reasons I give myself to survive the next day.
Poetry is hilarious.
I hope to one day find a reason to laugh as well.