Poems

Poem 36

  It's time I answer this question, asked many times before

"What happened to you?" I'm not her anymore

Let me tell you how things used to go in my head

Before I labeled myself "internally dead"

A splash of color from a rainbow!

"SKETCH THIS! COLOR IT! GO!!"

Screaming from multiple voices, "WRITE THIS STORY!! ADD THIS PLOT!!"

Does he love her? Does he not?

SPLASH! COLOR AGAIN! DRAW IT NOW!!

Where did I come up with this? How?

Another voice whispers, "Make a story, where you're a badass, living a double life

At school you're a nerd, but at night? You're a psycho with a knife"

I lost sleep from all the loud noise

My mind was a child, my thoughts its toys

Dance to this song!

Come on Sam! You GOTTA sing along!

Buzz, buzz, jitter, spark, flash!

Your next character is a guy named Nash!

Here, there, everywhere paint splatters!

Be happy! Nothing else matters!

You can't dance, but do it anyway!

SING AS LOUD AS YOU CAN TODAY!!!!

Fun right?

To live in my mind was quite the sight

Where did it come from? Where did it go?

(Where did you come from Cotton-eyed Joe)

But one day, it all just stopped, no more

It was like someone put everything in a closet and locked the door

The voices fell silent, the color stopped its splatter

Then suddenly, nothing mattered

No more stories, no more color, it all went away

These are my current, depressing days

I stopped writing poems, I never pick up my notebook

My old sketches? I never give them a second look

If I lose sleep now, it's because I'm sad

And honestly, that makes me really mad

I miss it all, I miss my "friends"

The ones that gave me plots, but never told me how it ends

I miss the color of my rainbow, but it's faded, dark

It's been a while since I've felt a spark

I used to dance a little, I loved ballet

Dancing it to anything, but the ballerina went away

The teen idol in me stopped singing her songs

I don't know how or when, but something went wrong

My Picasso put down her brushes, my writer her pencils

My little girl stopped using her stencils

I want her back, I want my loud head

But now I'm "internally dead"

This is the second poem I've written today, it's been a while

But something's making me write, and that's making me smile

A little paint splattered in my head a few hours ago

What did it splatter? I'll show you when I draw it tomorrow

This is what happened, okay?

All these little sparks went away

But I danced today, I wrote, maybe she'll come back in a bit?

If she doesn't, I swear, I'll throw a fit

I miss her, I miss her a lot

Maybe she'll come back, maybe not

But that's for her to decide

But I'm feeling a spark deep inside

Maybe soon I'll see more color, more voices

Maybe I'll start making better choices

I guess we'll just have to see

But I miss the girl I used to call me