frustration

flushing and raging
it's elevating
coursing through my veins
tracing out my stage
of presence here.
frustration, pure and simple
but then it's anything from
pure and simple.
opposites.
Where do I know where I'm supposed to be?
How do I know what to do?
When will my visions and dreams, potentials and aspirations
follow through
with time?
Now. I need it now

Hole inside
Fullness outside
Conflict inside
Frustration outside.
Freedom here
Bondage there
Freedom anywhere
but here
but then freedom
here but no where else.
So much confusion.
Everywhere. All the time.
It never stops.
Frustration
I could follow a rhythmic code
and go through with the patterns of life
When I get in this frustratinly odd mode
expression comes through writing out my strife
But I don't want to write like I'm supposed to
I want to write free
vivid
filled to the
brim with
difference of pure, unlimited
expression.
i want to live different
with enamourous growth and
unabtainable bliss
expressed in words that no one can express
and
lived with vigor that no one can possibly contain.
The world is drying, and pouding into my skull
how I am supposed to be
feel
live
obtain
exist.
But I want
difference
even if it means
just in this poem
So here is my frustration
written out
complex, confusing, chaotic
and outside
but here it is. At least it's here.