I close my eyes, but whirlpools dance on the rim of my brain

I think the poem was summed up in the lines "Nothing makes any sense. Nothing's ever made any sense."
This to me, although I could be totally in every way possable have missed the point, symbolizes the drowsy tiredness when before bed or denied bed. The last verse on the subject of darkness backs up my theory.
You may be wondering the purpose of this review bomb.
-beat converse fire girl
-top the leaderboards
-get 4 stars
-not read depressing poetry.
Take That You Fiend!

"I'm just so tired
of roaming the world
and building castles in the dusk.
My brain feels like a senseless ruin,
a shack, an ivory landscape.
Nothing makes any sense.
Nothing's ever made any sense."

Building castles in the dusk. Shack. Ivory. Senseless ruin. Your imagery is absolutely breathtaking.

"I feel like I could combust
and explode into a million tridents
that harness glory and decay;
so full-steam ahead, and press on."

Your words are lofty and remind me of every well-written book and poem I have every read. Tridents. My gosh, your command of language is superb! Honestly, I love this poem. I really, truly love it.

"I traipse through wood and willow
and drive the shifting thorns
into my carcass of a heart.
The pain stops me from thinking,
the pain allows me to writhe and moan,
and it stops my thoughts from rejuvenating.
Yet my mind does not rest,
and the thoughts weigh down on my nerves;
they pour out through my eyes,
but never via my tongue.
Maybe if they did, my burden would be
lighter.
And I would not despair."

You had me at "I'm," you kept me with tridents and explosiveness and castles. And then you had to be a genius again by using alliteration and a rare, vivid verb, traipse. Typically, when pain is mentioned in a poem, the author inevitably turns a potentially powerful piece into a festering, throbbing, ugly cliche. You did just the opposite. "They pour out through my eyes, but never via my tongue," reminds me of artist's block. Ick. Dreadful malady. "Maybe if they did, my burden would be lighter, and I would not despair," brings to mind memories of how relieved I feel once I get an idea into writing or picture. However, I have a feeling your meaning behind these phrases differs from my interpretation; that is the beauty of art.

"The light sifts through my fingers,
and the sky bleeds words through my veins.
The world hurls its miseries to me,
and I perch on a throne of darkness,
waiting for the thoughts to subside.
But the blasted sadists never leave.
They dance within me, waiting -
but for what I just don't really know.
Nothing makes any sense.
Nothing will ever make any sense."

Okay, veins is a word I see a lot in darker poetry, however since I don't see what other word you could have used without it being awkward, I think it works just fine. "I perch on a throne of darkness," I love this. Your repetition in the last two lines is brilliant and emphasizes the theme of a thrillingly beautiful chaos.

"I close my eyes, but whirlpools dance
on the rim of my brain.
I'm dizzy, the world shakes around me,
and I open my eyes out of sheer agitation.
I'm afraid of succumbing to the folds of my mind."

"I open my eyes out of sheer agitation," Again, love love love love! Every time I read it, I expect the cliche of "agony", but each time I am pleasantly surprised by "agitation".

"The world whispers in laconic tunes,
it racks at me until my heart is ready
to whisper back,
and get swallowed by the despair.
The darkness penetrates my irises.
The darkness hates me.
And the darkness lives on with me through the night.
My brain frizzles, and it still burns
Because nothing makes any sense."

Laconic tunes. Whispers. "It racks at me until my heart is ready to whisper back." The last two lines. Just. Everything. Every little detail about this poem is supremely, hauntingly enchanting. I love it. Well done. This poem needs to be published.

I don't have time for a review of sorts, but I will put all the pluses I see in this poem! If I have time, I will come back and give this a nice review

The vocabulary is tremendous, and I like the kinda side thoughts at the end of certain stanzas. It has a nice ring to it that wows me into wanting to just keep reading the poem over and over again!

One of my favorites stanzas is

"The light sifts through my fingers,
and the sky bleeds words through my veins.
The world hurls its miseries to me,
and I perch on a throne of darkness,
waiting for the thoughts to subside.
But the blasted sadists never leave.
They dance within me, waiting -
but for what I just don't really know.
Nothing makes any sense.
Nothing will ever make any sense."

It is just so vivid and wonderful! Keep writing

Oh, and remind me to review this later!

"I feel like I could combust
and explode into a million tridents
that harness glory and decay;
so full-steam ahead, and press on."

I love this. Your poem is fantastic.