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One more Hmmm for good luck.
More poetry.
I sure hope you guys like poetry, cuz there's bucket loads here. If you don't like poetry, then wtf are you doing here. lol.
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A Self-Interpretation.
I am a book
unreadable
even to myself.
Each day of my life
I turn a page
but I will never fully understand it.
I am high and low
up and down
left and right
and everything in-between.
Night and day
meet inside of me
and I am never nothingness.
I am always reaching
toward a new way of me.
I am laughter and delight.
I am not.
I am everything of everyone
and everything of myself.
I am who I am.
I am a book.
I will never be set in stone.
I will never be read.
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Yesterday and Today Declare War.
I've changed from yesterday
into today;
although, I don't think they have noticed.
They don't see
how I constantly question
everything I do.
When I was yesterday I didn't have to.
They don't see
how I hold myself back
and don't share my thoughts.
I find being today makes sharing hard.
They don't ask
why I no londer fall inlove
as often as the days.
Now that I'm today
I find I can't.
They don't see
how I look at myself and cringe.
When I was yesterday
I didn't want to see.
I have changed into today,
after being yesterday
my whole life.
And they wonder why I find it hard.
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Tissue Paper Love Song.
What is love?
Is it a moment, happy and complete in itself,
forver cherished and enlarged in the mind?
Is it a lifetime filled to the brim
with those moments,
wanting nothing more?
How long until love,
winged and fertile,
sets it seed into my heart?
All it bears for me, from moment to moment
is scar after scar after scar,
sorrowful with tears.
It sings a lonely, aching song
of missing that which it never yet has known.
The lilting, winding melody wraps itself,
fragile and broken
in frail blue tissue paper.
For me, love is not a moment or a lifetime;
all I have known is an illusion of happiness,
like blue tissue paper
that fades in the first rain fall
and breaks
just as easily
as a heart.
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