It's not fair and it's not nice
It's not and I do truly despise myself for harbouring this unforgivable vice.
And I won't apologize because it'd make me be forgiven
And I am unforgivable.
I am a ghost and often not sure if I even exist
Lost in a forest between tiny tasks and large obligations
I play tag with reality: freeze when I get caught
And leave everyone and everything alone with my responsibilities
I wish I knew how,
To make that choice between existence and
Leaving life so painfully in the dust
But then always wishing to kiss the ground
//
Maybe it was my discontent
With who I was, with who I am
But I didn't know it at the time
That I would be so disgusted with myself
How can a mind love so deeply
And a body refuse to follow?
How can a mind be parched
While the body drowns so painfully in sorrow
Maybe you can tell by my words so blunt
Disgust is not pretty,
And I don't wish to claim it as mine.
And I cry while writing this,
Because I know you won't understand
Even if you refuse to believe
I'll tell you, my love was real
You in my heart
As a cherry tree that blooms
//
There was an axe that fell between us like a guillotine
I was that axe
I feel like you and I
Are stars chasing each other
Images from so long ago
Forever I am part of a missing whole
Such a big part of me is still entirely yours
I don't know if I could ever take that part back
Because the blood is fresher on the other side of the axe
And what I mean by that
Simply, plainly,
Is that I'll always and forever be looking your way
Because you are my one and only
I always find myself coming back to those days
Those days you kissed my cold hands
Those days you bought me flowers
That day we shared our music
For the first time
Romance has more meanings than one
And something in romance
Lasts longer than we both
Ever will
That feeling I compare
To soulmates floating around one another
Even if they never touch
They are never truly without the other
And what a tragedy that is
//
I wrote, on a whim:
"You are a small stream flowing, trickling down a large snowy mountain. If I stand in you and the weather gets warmer, the current grows stronger and I will get swept away, to find myself at the bottom of that mountain that I took so long to climb"
It still holds true
The longer I stand in the stream
The more I feel it tugging
And something in me
Feels like going for a swim
YOU ARE READING
Thickets
PoetryI need a place for poems and poem-like things now that I've made a habit out of expressing myself through poetry
