[personal profile] jaydee
So I just handed in a thousand word paper that I'm pretty much ashamed of. Ashamed of because it was crap, not because it was late - it was that too, but not by much. It was late (in part) because I spent most of the day it was due trying to finish a poem. Which started out nice and vague and non-specific and then got way personal and about me and yeah, also crappy. Another thing to be somewhat ashamed of.

When I did finish it I knew it wasn't one I'd be sharing. And I realised there are a whole lot like that. I've written more than double the poems this year than I've put here. Looking at this little selection it's not even clear that most of the poems I write are terribly angsty and romantically themed (which was maybe a good thing?) and so I decided to fix that. Here is one such poem from about a year and a half ago. A poem that I'm not ashamed of.

It can be a burden on a heart to feel this way, I know.
A weight that warps perceptions. So unsure of what I see.
The smallest slight, a glance away, my mind turns to a vast
and vicious message, sent to show me that I shouldn't start
to think that you might care, might be in love with me also.
I hate that sickly love can cast a pallor on the day,
even as the target of said love is near. Too near? Perchance
the longing heart aches more when that for which it longs is there
in sight than when it from afar did dream. For distance lets
the fancy conjure up romance without hanging above
it all those things (some quite unfair) that nearness makes us at
once aware. And so I have regrets for being where you are.

And while I can't help but suspect that every thing I feel
is twisted by this foolish crush and so should be ignored
it's like some magic clouds my mind. Although I know that I
am seeing things all wrong - unreal distortions - I inspect
your every act for some discord. Imagining you brush
off each and every thing I try to say. As if you find
in even my 'hello' something that causes you disgust.
It is for this I've been upset for days, and no amount
of reasoning can bring me ease. I can't convince myself
with any words, instead I must see what new days will bring.
I wish I somehow could discount all these feelings and yet
to have my heart down off the shelf is such a sweet release.

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February 2013


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