Myself Poem by Christian Crisostomo

MYSELF

I saw myself
lying in the green grass
of the gradually glazing spring.

I saw myself
murmuring something
that my brown eyes can't comprehend.

It seems like yesterday
had returned to invite me to play.
It feels like that the blue sky
will permanently turn into gray
and the night will be still as
soon as the river of sadness
become a lonely desert between
two peakless mountains.

I hide myself
trying to kill the pain
inside here in my metal chest
I feel nothing but evening.
It seems that in my eyes,
everything is black.
The flowers, water, air, and everything
are turning into black pearls
beneath the deepest ocean
towards infinity.

I hate myself
from being weak behind the rain.
I can see the blood flowing
from my head and yet
I allow it to flourish
as if I'm just walking
in a heavy downpour
where all eyes are looking at me,
blaming me.

I found myself
Sitting below the ceiling of the milky way.
Beside these two dead stones from Atlantica.
I looked up at the starry night
And tried to find my brightest star
But I couldn't find it
No matter how I try.

Now I know
that I truly found myself
in this rectangular prism
where coldness and darkness intertwined.
I am now living in an endless vacuum of silence
where I can feel and hear nothing;
but it is clear
that I could see these things
very vividly, these things seem to be real
though I am not already a part
of this three dimensional space
but I am still existing
in the fourth dimension, time.

Now, it is very clear to me
that when I saw myself
who was trying to hide,
those were the last chapters of my book.
And now that I found myself,
I can no longer go back to reality.
My soul was already sealed
in this vacuum of infinite silence.
I can no longer touch something
Nor hear my favorite songs.
I miss playing my guitar.
I miss everything.
Though I am sealed in this endless illusion,
the imagination became the reality
and the reality became imaginary.