my poetry is a mess of unfinished thoughts,
tangled sheets
black coffee
incorrect grammar.
falling glasses
crumpled napkin, bic pen
oversized sweatshirts
early 2000s alternative bands.
my poetry is a string of multi-colored Christmas lights,
all tangled — unevenly distributed
wrapped around a large problem
but never hitting the center.
dull and boring
cliche and overrated
until you flick the switch
and you see that it shines.
my poetry is a result
of sleepless nights,
hospital waiting rooms,
the fifth floor landing.
bored classrooms,
road shoulders,
books and stories
and novels and poetry.
my poetry is rain droplets racing as they fall
from the ocean
collecting in a heap
in the deep, starry sky.
exploding on impact,
affecting everything it hits
leaving a temporary scar
but not enough for permanent remembrance.
my poetry is an amalgamation of myself
messy hair
black nail polish
too many earrings.
mismatched
restless.
hopeless romantic
mess of broken veins.
my poetry is a disarray of math classes, of numbers
hard to interpret
easy to understand
impossible to completely follow.
simple but difficult
abstract but real
imaginary but rational
infinite.
******
song -- "The Story," Brandi Carlile
YOU ARE READING
My View from the Mount
PoetryA really close friend (she's the older sister I never had) once told me that I don't need to be established to consider myself a writer. So here I am. I'm a writer, but I'm not a professional. I'm just a girl with a pen who speaks through a notebook...
