Walking, I don't think you see me,
even when I wave,
but you answer, never shifting your gaze from the
distant thoughts in your head.
"Look at you." As if I'm beautiful.
Or as if I'm ridiculous-I can't always tell which.
I can never tell which.
I have. I didn't particularly like it, either;
I'm awkward, and move just how I feel: unsure.
I don't know how to answer you; is this what you see, when you look at me? I don't know how that can be, if you're still looking.
And you are, though your gaze stays fixed on your insides.
I've gotten so calm,
and what you're dreaming tonight doesn't matter.
Do we see eye-to-eye? yes.
These words to paper will eventually sing me to sleep. They'll be the lullaby that my mother always spoke of.
It's 20 to Two, and there's not yet been a moment that I've stopped thinking about you.
We see eye-to-eye... right?
Please turn your eyes this way, and see me for what I am, not how I act. I act like her,
and like him.
I act to keep me afloat,
but once I'm alone I end up singing the words that my mother wrote.
Walking down the hallways, I never see you enough. I'm now taking hits rather than [pass, pass]
"yeah, sure:" puff.
Things shouldn't be so strained; it should be a tame, "sure, let's try"
or at least,
"I know you can't tell, but when looking at you,
my eyes lie."
This is as close to a journal as I've ever gotten. No lock, no key, because this won't be forgotten, and I want you to see
how I feel when I imagine you and me
They're all dancing, and they all look like fools. you've been missed today, so I'm sitting, watching.
I envy them in their sure, comfortable foolishness and I wish I could look like such.
Wait, I do. And you know it's often
because of you.
I am a fool.
They've pulled it together; why am I not with them?
Because I blatantly lie. am I lying about this? Possibly. To myself, if not to you.
You're not what I need, I know, but you're what I see and breathe.
Sometimes I actually think it could happen, you know. When I see that you've kept things of mine,
when you touch me.
But then I see you looking at her,
and her
and her. Them.
and I feel so unwanted.
You address those beside me, without glancing to my face. Do you not want to, or is it just hard?
I hope it's not that you don't wish to see me, because I wish to see you every night.
More and more and more of you.
My sheets smell like men's deodorant and hairspray,
fake flowers,
baby powder,
and love.
I've got no where else to lay.
You've been my problem for way too long, and my font needs to change.
I still missed you today. Looking at you was better though, than holding on to nothing. I need you to be yourself inside again.
Or are you as they say? empty, a shell, trying just to fill yourself up
with the blood of women's hearts? I know they're right when they comment on your sourdough mood. You're bottling it all away.
When I turn off my light at night, I reach out my arms long before I could ever touch the lamp, as though I might fall at any time,
into your arms.
My font has changed, now more carefree and flowing. I'm still in love with you, but I'm in love with this feeling.
I think I'm thinking of moving along now.
Tie a rope around my wrists to pull me back, please; I don't want to move too far without you.
I still think of you time and time again. Like you, I picture good times and smiles. Rings and weddings, all of which I am dreading. Yet I keep shedding all doubt
that what I'm craving is you.
"Saw you in my dream last night."
(don't tell me that)
"Please"
(please don't make me regret this)
"Please"
(you're drunk)
"Please"
(you won't even remember this
in the morning)
"Please please please, just a little bit."
(even if you remember this in the morning, it won't change shit. You're going to fuck me over so bad. Again.)
"Come on"
(you don't even know how badly I want you right now, nor how angry I am at myself for it)
"Please"
(please don't make me choose; I'm way too afraid I'll choose you)
I wasn't asking for the world, but you could give it to me anyway.
Walking through the street, I can see your face
and I can hear your name,
no wonder the people all look the same.
And I've starved myself, but now I need your help. It'd be a shame to put this all to hell.
See, you're the only person who makes me unable to follow through.
You're not such a small thing to me; I don't know a thing about the birds and the bees.
But it's the truth: I can't help myself.
You've stabbed me so bad I'll have permanent scars, and somehow I know that you'll go so far
as to justify this
inside yourself.
Two years ago, I was that girl that you only vaguely knew existed
One year ago? I was there, but you looked at me with a satirical eye. I was a fool, unstable, complicated, and milking it for what it was worth. (nothing)
The beginning of this past summer?
I was confused, worried (about myself) and crying.
Now I'm not any of that.
Now I sit here in my heartache
But I'm not waiting for anything anymore,
and I don't expect some boy to come save me
Because I've been saved.
I'm happy and simple, now.
I sometimes feel pretty
And I'm mostly in control.
I'm sane now,
and it bothers me that you can't tell the difference.
"Bang Bang"
you shot me down
"Bang Bang:" again and again.
Stop pulling me to my feet, only to shoot me to the ground again, please.
I'm standing right now; dreading that sound
[Bang Bang]
of rejection.
If you shoot me down, that injection of fear, loss of self-worth, and the arrest of my birth
Will not be admitted by me.
You are still mine.
And I've always been yours.
close your eyes;
listen to me
I'm not the girl you've always seen
erase all you're memories;
let's start again:
Hello, stranger.
I've been hurt and abandoned by the only one I've ever loved.
And that wound has healed into a perfect
star-shaped scar. She was my magick.
How are you today, stranger?
I'm waxing again, building myself back into what she made me...
this time without her tough-love help.
How is your family? Your loved ones? Your heart?
Mine is almost whole,
the only hole left to fill is from this guy I once knew, stranger...
A contest entry
- Freeballin by kermie4201.
900 points, ended November 2, 2008, 15 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Your favorite by whispernthedark.
790 points, ended November 7, 2008, 56 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Have you ? by aurora13.
520 points, ended November 30, 2008, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 25 of 25
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You are an amazing storyteller... very clear and strong imagery ..
Thanks for sharing ..!! Good Luck!
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Wow. This is a stunning write, hit in the gut! Thank you for entering the contest, good luck.
♥
whisper
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Great
Long and i just wanted to keep reading very good, good luck on the book version. -
That was amzing! The emotion was just so great, each line and verse so full, surging and swelling with so much. Absolutely splendid. Even better, you kept my attention, i generally have trouble reading such long writes, but you did it in such a way that time felt like sand passing through my hands while i read this. The best of luck to you in my contest.
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Firstly, it's incredibly sweet. Looking through, I love it all and find it impossible to single out a favorite part.
A lot of raw honest thought; a style that could easily become a hideous rant-- but you completely pulled it off. There are so many beautiful lines poured into this. The structure works really well, for the "....moving through thought" kind of content.
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This is long, but captivating and really good. I've been there with that problem before, and it gets better. Or so everyone tells me. . . Anyway, keep writing! It's really good.
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This is looooong. But it's good and easily captivating so the length is not detrimental. It seems to me like this is probably a true story, and since I've been there, I'll tell you, someday, it will be easier.
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Wow. In my opinion, this should certainly place in the contest you've entered it into. At first glance, I was a bit burdened by the length & depth of the piece but as I began to read, I was captured by the imagery and emotion that you have infused into the poem. I will agree that it is more like a story than a poem & interestingly, it held my attention until the very last word - quite a feat, let me tell you!
By far and away, my favorite lines were:
"My sheets smell like men's deodorant and hairspray,
fake flowers,
baby powder,
and love.
I've got no where else to lay.
You've been my problem for way too long, and my font needs to change."
Because, Lord, haven't I been there. In any case, you have a wonderful skill! Bravo!!
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Well...right now, it reads more like a story than a poem. There seems to be a lot of extraneous detail that could be removed or condensed to keep from spreading the poem's meaning out over too many words
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Actually it.. is.. a story...
it's going to be put into the form of a book.. -
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Uh...okay, sorry. I was just ignorant of that then. ^___^;
As a story it's fine.
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I like how you revised it, I think you should definitely enter it in the fair
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i will defianantly be looking back on this peice. i loved every single second of it! no lie. you should definantly enter it!
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Ooo thank you! Made me smile big!
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There is so much put into this piece! I had to read it again and again, Not because I didnt understand, but because its that good! The feelings you have written here flutter high above anything else, Like a Tower built to last. There are so many wonderful points to this. Thankyou for sharing!
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Thank you thank you!! Do you think that it's something that people can't relate to, though? I'm thinking of self-publishing for an art fair..
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but once I'm alone I end up singing the words that my mother wrote.
LOVE that line!!
am I lying about this? Possibly. To myself, if not to you.
And This!!
Loving the reference to font changes, (maybe , for reasons too complicated to explain, but yeah, accept that it rocked!)
Loving the twist at the end too...
Hard hearts are not meant to last.
I actually really enjoyed this poem! It was hard to make out the actual even to which you refer, but the emotions in this are raw and true.
Great poem, and I'm bookmarking, if that's ok!
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At first I thought I wouldn't like this because of the first part. There's something weird with the flow going on there. The other four parts drew me in though, the flow was much better and the rhythm much easier to read. I read it through again leaving the first part out and I really really liked it. I personally would start most new sentences on a new line to help with the flow.
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Thank you; I'll revise the first bit
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i like the flow in this. sure, it seems like a journal entry, but a journal entry with structure and a rhyme scheme... and that sounds like poetry to me! i like that the rhymes are embedded in the lines, instead of being at the end, although you could always change the structure to make it look more traditional- but hey, if it ain't broke, don't fix it! it's not perfect, but very few things are. on the whole, i like this piece. it's fresh and unique and i doubt there are few people who can;t relate to it. well done.
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like I said before, nothing really to say, but I keep reading this over and over.
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Good. -I'm going to be adding a lot more on to the one here, I think. For a few days at least.
That's, if you even keep updated on it. I suppose you must, reading and rereading.
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Good use of your anger. Remember to proofread.
But I have plenty of friends that are in highschool. I play in a metal/jazz band and have many more musical and literary outlets also.Please write more you have the power.
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I'm confused as first of all, this poem isn't about anything angry.. and I hope it doesn't portray anger to any readers. Second, I've proof-read about 20 times, literally, so I'm asking if you could point out any mistakes that you see.
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okay
I liked it, It was writtne well, but I didnt feel the flow. I see where you are coming from though nad I can see where you are coming from. Good peom overall
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