More Old Poetry

Grandma left today, and I spent the entire day running around doing last minute errands, catching up on the shopping I didn’t do this weekend, taking care of work stuff, and playing video games while trying to pretend I don’t have to deal with real life. So I will leave you with some more of my terrible poetry. I have lots to say, no idea how much of it will actually be said, and a sadness that could almost be exhaustion hollowing a pit into my heart.

Anyway, I just went through some of my old notebooks and typed up every poem I even remotely liked. The date is when they were written.

August 27, 2009

I’m going to swim under the surface of real life
And I won’t come back until you’re gone.

I’m like a bird exiled to the ocean
Away from her children on the shore.

I’m like a solder alone in the mountains
Never knowing the end of war.

November 3, 2010

This is not a starvation, it is a rawness
Weeping defensively, lacking options.

There is a fear of callousness
A loss of sensitivity characterized by early abuse.

Does this wound require licking
Or would that spur infection?

November 3, 2010

What new flood is this?
And all my cups were empty.

But both my eyes are dry.
No number of lives is too many to waste.

December 30, 2010

I am an empty ball of jealousy underneath a layer of sweaters three inches thick.
I am impetuous and difficult, and I have run out of defiance.

I have “yes” and “yes” and angry silence.
I pull solutions out of my blood through my eyes.

Bottles and bottles I make for the world,
Always forgetting to take for myself.

September 11, 2011

When one is raised by wolves:

Dinner is never on time
Bed is more of a feeling than a concept
Hygiene is spotty
Manners are scarce