really big elephants

emotions, emotions everywhere.

My english teacher assigned us to write a poem based on the strongest emotion we've ever felt-the emotion out of any, we knew was real, the one engraved in our bones. My first idea, was one I immeditley banished to the back of my mind, instead I listened to my peers throw out their ideas. The kid in the back, with his stutter and glasses that never seemed to fit right, picked tormented. The girl in the front chose sadness, she wore long sleeves in the middle of a Florida June. I listened with my head down, untill voices ceased and all that could be heard was the sound of pen scratching paper. The bell rung, and I realized I wrote not a single word, I was too busy listening to my thoughts spin heartbreaking novels that were louder than my best memory.

But ya see, poems are pretty and I refuse to write one about the ugly emotion that is you. Many argue a person isn't an emotion but I'll die fighting that you are. An emotion, by definition is something you feel and boy I felt you. I felt you pounding in my veins the first time I made you laugh, I felt you taking over my throughts the second you held my hand. However, the reason I refuse to write a thing as pretty as a poem about you, is because I felt you three months ago in the bottom of my empty whiskey bottle when you took back your "I love you" I felt you in the bed I didn't leave, the food I didn't eat, and the empty in my smile when you called last week to let me know I've been replaced--the way you said it, so casual and random, as if you were delievering the weather crushed me, and there's nothing pretty about that.