Friday, July 02, 2010

Nobody

I am like dirt under your shoe

Or a children’s book you forgot you had

Like an ache that you can’t bother to heal

Like I was just someone, anyone, no one at all


Words that sound like poetry

Coat your mouth like caramel

Sweet, indulgent but really

Just a sticky mass of unhealthy sugar


It hurts again. I thought it could never be

As bad as the last time

But it’s worse and more crushing

Because I didn’t think I would let myself hurt this way


No one but myself, no friends who understand

Just a room with little corners

Where I cry until my legs fall numb

Until I turn into an irrational mess of a person


What am I to you? Just a girl you convince yourself is the one

Who your heart doesn’t allow to love enough

Subconsciously, you push me away

It hurts to feel like nothing to you

Poetry

when language like bubbling streams flow




when words are laid down to fit like lovers' hands




when you feel the essence of the poet from within




when swirling thoughts are caught in the net of rhythm



when images reel as you read




when pen and paper create a symphony




then, it is poetry