subconscious

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I can hear screaming, no theory of where its coming from,  or where the sound is streaming. What is this meaning? Why is there a dismal sound 
Short note: the following poem is in Villanelle style. As words that infuse life into a dark place, Poetry gave a face to the tangled mess in my mind, As strokes on a page that probe a soul’s triumph and waste.
The Walls are Crying
It is kind of a funny story
You know I wrote a whole poem not more than two seconds ago what a shame I let it go i wish I could rewrite it
The best part of art lies in the subconscious, Not within the scrutiny of a scholar’s essay, Not within the thoughts that the artist speaks to herself, But within the very muscles of the hand,
My eyes close only to be reopened uploading with cerebral motions visual explosions
Let the emphatic take control of the present sitiuation. Shut your eyes, open your mind Caricatured hypnotic pertinence, crystallized vice Abide the incoherent vibes. Impertinent bipartisan with no proper guide.
The purple dino is utopia. He wears a positive smile every day. Kids are happy in Dinotopia, Because he knows how to count, spell, and play.   The purple dinosaur can laugh and sing,
An artist’s mind is often swallowed by indigenous thoughts. Trying to balance ones conceptions on a fine thread.
A virgin innocence beams under the spot light, shushed as the speakers buzz. A flurry of question bury the noise and a voice rises above. A blanket of awe wraps itself around the shiny toy.
A virgin innocence beams under the spot light, shushed as the speakers buzz. A flurry of question bury the noise and a voice rises above. A blanket of awe wraps itself around the shiny toy.
To brood, Causes one to be rude, To think of one as whole causes us to conflate. Enabling us to be selfish, and finding ways to relate. Thinking of others provides images, diaphanous in nature.
She danced the Bata* Like it was all that mattered Her words rang with laughter A dance only she could master The drummers’ hands slick with sweat  brows jammed, bodies wet
My pain is like bruisesThere are times when it hurtsand in worst cases it is excruciatingBut there are times when It is numbI feel not one thingIt even can go unnoticedThe whole world can see it but me
( Tears fall As… We… all watch in fear. Again… Challenge by hypocrites theirs and ours… History fresh.
  Blue eyes, blond haired   Look at you will never be heard   I tell u will be loved and cared  
Ahahahahahahahahaaa Today isn’t your lucky day But, it sure is mine I ain't dealing with your games Or drama Letting you be one of those people Who wanna make me Naw, sweetie Not no more
I'm so sick of seeing us like this.  You know that we don't look the same like we used to, but its okay. "Its okay" you keep telling me over and over as you continue to smoke that joint. 
You're sharing time with each of your loved ones The clock strikes the witching hour A well-dressed man steps into the room with burdens that could drown a man Yet no expression is told on his face
These four walls hold me in Blank and bare, so naked, I stare The dimmed light from the screen Makes a Glow. A dull glow because it is dark, past 11.
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