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It's the One Thing in My Anatomy That Doesn't Agree With My Brain's Logic

Thin, rope-like thread,
With complicated stitches, knots, and loops,
Soiled, but in a way that it has been comfortably worn.
Loved.
Wooden beads alternate, brown and black.
All connected by a woven clasp.
So what does this necklace-
My lifeline, my good luck charm, my strength-
Mean to you?
If I keep it,
Woven and intertwined with experiences-
We're friends forever.
If I don't, we're not?
Would that make everything we have... a lie?

You'd wear that necklace everyday.
It meant something to you.
So; Why is it now fastened around my neck?
Those words repeat in my head.
“I want you to have this.” “But... it's yours.”
“...no, keep it.”
If it means so much to you,
Why would you dare give it away?
Am I... worth it?
The best friend, one of many.
The secret keeper.

I've already given you something.
Not that you've noticed.
It's not material, but I'm sure it's replaceable...
Well, I'M replaceable, anyway.
You can't touch it,
Yet you've abused it more than you know.
It's the one thing I try to keep safe,
Locked up, with walls, barriers, shields and gates surrounding it
Yet...
It's the one thing in my anatomy
That doesn't agree with my brain's logic.
It's the one thing that always loses it.
...The one thing that always shatters,
Into pieces of what was a soul, a spirit...
A heart.

What happens to me?
What happens when this now-lifeless body sees you everyday,
When it feels the warmth of your hugs,
The heat of your strong, tall body,
The love (friend love, of course) that radiates out of that million dollar smile,
The smile that leads me,
Urges me to keep going.
What happens when “I love you”-a phrase I'm used to hearing from you-
Seems like a TV commercial- always repeating,
Advertising something I want,
Even though I'll never have it,
Never have you.
What happens when I get tired of this?
The love, the affection, the hugs... the friendship.
What happens when...
The necklace isn't enough anymore.
Or, what I really want to know...
What happens when you realize I'm not good enough?

Author notes

Well, one day I just decided to write down what I'm feeling.
I haven't written a love poem in nearly a year, and lately I've been... well, inspired
So please, comment it, be critical, (but be nice!) and please read the next few poems I post (lets just say there's more than one...)

So...how did I do?

    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    Line numbers  • Invite them to read
    : no Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have (?)

Comments

1 - 14 of 14

  • green mother rose
    May 8, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    this is good. One must keep reading inorder to feel it. I hope that they do...

    I hope that you get what it is your looking for... or that the one will notice what it is that they miss...

    blessed be

    Green Mother Rose


    • kissjess
      May 9, 2009
      Edit | Reply
      Thank you! I hope I drew your eye down the page, so you wouldn't get bored, for it was a painful thrill to write.

      I hope so too; otherwise, I guess it just wasn't meant to be.
      Bummer.
      Well thank you again for commenting and reading


  • Rovingone gold member
    May 7, 2009

    Edit | Reply

    This is a painful piece, at least to me. It reminds me of past experiences of my own which ended in precisely the same manner. It is hard to see love turn into a friendship and to see it slowly slide into something that seems nonexistent except on one side, in memory more than reality. And, there is always that momento from the past which keeps you thinking, hearing and seeing in your mind the things that are so hard to accept as past.


    • kissjess
      May 7, 2009
      Edit | Reply
      Well sometimes when you bare your soul, it hurts along the way... I've figured that out.
      Well, it's better to love and lost than not to have loved at all, right?
      Sometimes, I think that, and sometimes, it's like...
      But, if you lose it, the pain is so severe.
      You can't miss what you don't have.
      But then when you have it, it's like...
      You don't know what you have till you find it.
      Oh geez, I think I've just inspired another poem, I don't think I'll pursue it though.
      Sometimes, you have to cling to what you have, because maybe, just maybe... You may not have that anymore.


  • Paladin Warrior
    May 7, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    I am one when I do write which hasnt been much larley write in feeiling, instead of writing in form. I find that reading others work of the same style always finds a way to say more then any forms writen poem can. The way in which you write this makes for enjoyible reading; this is like reading two poems at once. I wrote a love poem not long ago I would love to have you read it here is a shortcut http://allpoetry.com/poem/5039925 . I like the way you tell your story, and at the same time ask question relating to your story.

    You ask the question are you worth it, asking are you worth someones love. I cannot answer the question, but I can say anyone the ask this question in the manner you have is worth a look ......................joe


    • kissjess
      May 7, 2009
      Edit | Reply
      I'm starting to do that as well.
      I mean, I can rhyme, and I won't sound forced or anything, but somehow if I just write my feelings down it comes out poetically anyway.
      When I was younger, I would generally write in rhymes because that's all I knew.
      I also wrote poetry that didn't rhyme, but I was sure I was wrong and I would wind up throwing it away. I regret that. Had a writer's soul, and didn't even know it!
      Yay, I'm glad you enjoyed it
      I have that poem in a tab right now, and I'm about to go read and comment it, promise
      I never thought of it as a story, though... wow, I suppose it is!

      Thank you so much, your comment really helped me, and now, I'm off to read yours!

  • Judith Chandler
    May 7, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    I think you have your reservations about the necklace and what it means to the other person. Are you wearing it for him or for yourself? It's nice to wear it for him but do you feel comfortable about it? Do you like the necklace?

    Sorry if I sound like a counsellor but, for me, the necklace section is the most interesting part of your poem.


    • kissjess
      May 7, 2009
      Edit | Reply
      I can promise you.
      More than, ANYTHING.
      I love the necklace.
      I feel naked without it.
      Haha, I'm wearing it at this moment.
      I promise you, no reservations about it, it means a lot to me,
      And I'm happy you found it interesting.
      Thank you


  • Maybe.I.Am.Broken.
    May 7, 2009

    Edit | Reply

    Brilliant.

    This is a great piece,
    the imagery,
    the rhythm,
    the flow.
    all of it!
    Amazing!
    Keep writing.
    Annie Shadows


    • kissjess
      May 7, 2009
      Edit | Reply
      Thank you so much!
      I really appreciate it
      I tried to captured exactly what I feel and see, and I just penned it and well I guess it worked.
      Thank you again


  • CrazzyCat
    May 6, 2009

    Edit | Reply

    WOW!!...

    Mesa in tears... this is my fav out of the three i've read. i know exactly how you feel. I love this one. No revision at all tis perfect as is. I look forward to reading more of your work. You are very talented. Thanks for posting


    • kissjess
      May 6, 2009
      Edit | Reply
      Aw! You've made my day
      I'm really glad you felt it, it's important to me not to just write, but to let the reader feel something.
      And I'm glad I was able to write it, nobody has critiqued it yet so maybe it's good I'm kinda proud of it. Is that bad?
      Annyyywayyy
      Thank you soo much! I really appreciate it


  • ajocean
    May 6, 2009
    Edit | Reply

    interesting

    its all well and well penned but maybe i missed something where are you taking me?

    • kissjess
      May 6, 2009
      Edit | Reply
      Thank you, and I'm not quite sure I understand your question.

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