It would be impossible
To be a poem than a poet.
I, myself, could see neither.
Probably, that's because I was
Colorblind by the time I learned
six story word and haiku
Haiku
could only write so little
A few syllables
uttered by
Tongue.
The mirror tells me differently.
I watched as my red plum pouty lips form
A frown when I tried to smile
The dirty hems of my tank tops rising
From days of unbothered laundry shopping,
I wasn't much concerned about
Food, diet or weight
The smaller I got,
The lesser expense.
Freestyle was born
in my head at age 10,
Couldn't imagine I was still one piece
Personality has
too many carbon copies,
Opinions were mostly
Ignored,
Feelings'
inconsistent,
Total: Identity
Was unlocatable.
Thoughts were usual.
A little twisted but fine.
Believed every temporary
as permanent,
I was living in extraordinary
Make-believe bluff
Which only means,
I wouldn't mind
vandalizing
My thoughts at
The Eiffel tower,
Confess on the chain
locked bridges
I am in love with a snake,
I was genuine when disregarded,
Friendly when mistreated.
I wouldn't mind getting my skin burned by
The sun because I could only
Spit " Jump" at the back of my throat,
Or froze my head up for a 'short break' in the north pole because why not?
Love was complicated
When all I know was striving to
Feed my six year
old orphan skinny body.
Either a poem or a poet,
I wouldn't last so long
imprinted
On the piece of paper,
I would love to
Tell my stories on the youths,
Teach them how to wear their
shoes right instead of stealing them
from someone else,
Make their world where their dreams
Would be beyond what
their arms could reach
But I...
I could be a poet and a poem,
couldn't be much of help,
Age: 21 didn't know how to
Differentiate between
" I love myself"
from " loving myself"
Because I
wasn't taught
Normal.
YOU ARE READING
We are not dead yet(poetry): Plot twist and other magic tricks
PoetryA set of prose and poetry about sad thoughts, phobia, insomnia, bullies. It focuses more on the negative side of one's life. COMPLETED June 12, 2021
