Sunday, October 26, 2008

A More Introspective Perspective

Now I know that most of my blog postings are often light-hearted, comedic, or entertaining in nature. But I thought.....hey, let's turn the lights down low this evening and share a heart to heart moment.

I have an incredibly introspective side to my personality, whose wheels are forever turning in my head no matter where I am or what I am doing. This is why it takes me at least 45 min-1 hour every night to fall asleep. Experiences, moments, thoughts.....are constantly orbiting my mind, bringing deeper or buried feelings to the surface, attempting to push insecurities and fears to the side, reliving cherished memories with loved ones. Late at night is when I find myself with a pen and paper (or in this case fingers and a keyboard) conjuring the poet within to express the emotions and thoughts I often keep tucked away during the day.

So here is something I wrote awhile back that I would like to share. It is about someone whom I ever hardly talk to or talk about with anyone anymore. However, I thought maybe we could both enjoy exposing what is beneath the band-aid. I mean, I do have to let it air out from time....


To you, who
Will never read this,
(Eyes clouded over) , I can-
not show,
Cannot describe
The day of a few flowers on my car, fuzzy
Memory that comes shooting
Back into my frontal lobe
Holding, but not
Holding hands, but not
Holding regrets
In my gut, of all
Nonstories in my past,
The one I never wrote (obviously), would go like this--

To you, who
Will most definitely read this,
We should have never let our bodies
Intertwine like vines
Vines, thick and twisted
With ripe flesh
Unable to untangle, reaching
Ever upward, growing ever
(but never) together
We should have let our bodies, find other

So now back to you, who
Will never read this,
And to me (who)
Of course wrote this,
of my
never-ending guilt,
Like being sick from too much chocolate-
Purging and wretching
The upset stomach filled with shouldhaves, couldhaves, and
(Most definitely)
Should not haves
(one single tear leaping from my eyelid)

This will be the last poem
I (will most likely) ever write,
To you, who
Will never read it.


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