Why You Shouldn’t Read a Poem

I do not want you to read my poems.

It’s an echo from empty halls

From insides that rumble

Like the flap of a wing

In a haunted castle.

It’s a wail from a rotting wasteland

Where the softness of a petal is long forgotten.

I pray

That I don’t make sense

That I’m a little too weird

For you to comprehend.

What a punishment it is

To be understood!

To be

Or not to be ?

May you see this as mere words

Bearing no meaning

Than a mad girl’s sad dilemma.

I’d rather be scribbled letters

And senselessly complex poems,

Than watch you crumble

Under the rubble of these syllables.