No I’m the most right.

I’d like to believe
that I am the most right
and I know your sitting back
thinking no I’m the most right
and I’m like no it’s me
it most certainly is
and then I stop and I think
shit
isn’t that where we fucked up
believing that any one person
could be correct?

We’ve been arrogant
in our thoughts
in our knowledge
because it takes centuries of sharing
before a truth
can become a truth
and even then a decade on
it could easily become debunked
not because one person
is more right than another
rather because as a collective
thoughts are shared
and further examined
and technology advances.

We begin to conclude
new theories
new possibilities
and find answers through sharing
centuries of research
one thought transferring to another
from a past they had never lived in
from a person they had never met
they carry on
and further extend a thought
and a theory becomes substantial.
What once was merely a thought
becomes an answer on an exam
in which if the taker
determines the information useless
they’ll fail the course.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Twisting the cords.

A connection
entangles the two
twisting the cords
around each other
fumbling to find the ends
pulling and tugging
speaking louder
each part
trying to be heard.

The cords constantly tugged
slowly they stop
and their words
are spoken
and listened to
and slowly the two
stop tugging
and searching for the ends
because the more wrapped they become
the better reminder
they aren’t alone.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Lips green as the blades of grass.

A face dyed red
and lips green as the blades of grass
that curve up
even upon rest
for if they were to slip
they could present
a sense of being upset
and questions would arise
in which the answers
would be pointless
because a frown
is reserved for sadness.
Although there are days
when the creature
just wants to relax
and give their lips a break
and be expressionless.

The above poem is a reaction to the image. Sometimes I draw without any sense of what I’m drawing until I’m finished. Then I allow the image to inspire some sense of thought in which I turn into a poem. Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Slipping through as a tear drop.

Every moment keeps falling apart
in one memory it’s solid
in another the memory liquifies
slipping through as a tear drop
fragile and ready to break
as the moment is remembered
it slips its way out
as it hits the wall and comes to an end
slipping through the tear ducts
leaving a feeling of loss
and nothing to settle that thought
nothing to settle the thought
being replaced by anger
as if anger fills the emptiness
in the pit
the sorrow will be eaten
and living could be possible
instead the anger
destroys all the memories
of the past
and the ones to come
turning them toxic
before they have a chance to evolve.



The above poem I wrote as I was working on a story. Recently I have been using poems as a way to help me get my thoughts gathered, and help connect with the characters. Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

An immortal elixir.

People are dying.
And?
People are fucking dying!
Are people not supposed to die?
Is there an elixir I’m unaware of
that allows a person to live forever?
I don’t think so.
Alright then
people are going to die
and if there was an immortal elixir
people would still die
because not everyone can live forever
and in a society of social classes
it’s not as if either of us
will ever get a drop anyways.
Instead I just focus on the breaths
I have left and give my time
to those that I value
as I avoid
dangerous vices
and societal treats
meant to shorten a short life
even shorter.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Grab the lighter.

Conversations and words
stories of childhood
the past is on the pages
certain parts forgotten
and those pages ripped
and worn out
by decades
upon decades
upon decades.

Grab the lighter
we can burn them
not because they’re filled of shame
or horror stories
they’re not
simply because
it gets cold at night
and the warmth
of the fire
will keep us going.

We’ve spoke of our pasts
enough of that
we know what came before
and we know where we are right now
let those memories burn
all the clutter in our brains
to turn to ashes
and make room for the next pages.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

There is a bigger treat up there.

Fuck.
She rubbed her head.
Fuck.
She rubbed her head again.
This time looking up.
She quickly blinked her eyes,
again she blinked faster.
What the fuck?
She shook her head.
No my imagination is doing it again,
it’s all in here.
She thought hitting her own head.
Bitch.
The words hit her fast.
She stopped
and looked up
staring at the image
of a man trapped in a….
She thought about it.
Is that an oversized spiderweb?
Shit that would mean…
Bitch.
The words hit her again,
she stared into the mans eyes.
Remember when you said
I wasn’t strong enough
because I was cold hearted?
She shrugged
you were right
I am fast enough though.
She ran down the hall
confronting a huge human like spider.
She stopped
thought about it
the man in the web was right
she wasn’t strong enough
and she was cold hearted.
She laughed,
she didn’t have to be now
the spider web did all the work.
There is a bigger treat up there
she pointed up
and kept walking.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Oceans filled of blood.

We all want to be the most right
the most together
the most worthy to look up to
which is impossible
because thoughts aren’t solid.
They crack
and through the cracks
liquid seeps
that liquid varies
in thickness
and potency.
It belongs to trillions
mixing
and changing
as it turns
truths into lies
and old lies into truths
because the more liquid
that seeps through
the more that is exposed
and the less
we stand apart.
Rather we melt into each other
smothering the probability
for one to stand above the rest
because it takes oceans filled of blood
to awaken possibility.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

The numbers dialed.

There are regrets
some are necessities
in which we accept
because the right person
is the one
in which we weather
through the storm of life with.
They aren’t the most perfect
because perfect is make believe
they are the one
that we remember
that we hold
that we cannot replace
the one that we accept
and allow the rest to fade
within a background of regret
because those regrets
that we banish before ever fully knowing
will never fully replace
our hearts calling.
The numbers dialed
and placed in our memories
the number our hearts call
because once those numbers
are received
our hearts memorizes
every digit
and accepts
that the voice on the other end
is worth the regret
of not knowing more.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina