A Book of Poems That Will Never Be Published

She's Tired

Miahann James // 11:29 \\ 3.17.19

I'm trying to understand your words

Sentences stringing from one ear and out the other.

Now I'm crying.

My heart aches to see your face again

But I don't know if the next time

Is the last.

I'm not trying to submerge myself

Into the fountain of tears

I did once before.

I must admit

That my arms are weak

And my heart is heavy.

I'm trying to comprehend

These feelings

Because I haven't felt them

This harshly before.

The only thing I know how to do

Is to shut everyone out

And I'm so used to doing that

So it just comes naturally.

Everything I'm doing right now

Being distant,

Hesitating to pour my heart out into paragraphs

Ready to burn down buildings with every word

And every phrase creates typhoons.

My favorite word

Has always been

"Euphoria."

There is no place euphoric anymore

No future I see myself in

Because it's

So

Unclear

My future is ink blotches and spilled root beer

No one wants a sad girl.

No one wants a crybaby.

There is no Euphoria.

There is no heaven.

There is nothing after death.

And I learned to accept my fate

And eventually

Hopefully

It changes for me.

Its changes for us.

Because all of these words burn down buildings

And these paragraphs create typhoons.