I've been a loser all my life, I'm not about to change/if you don't like it, there's the door -- nobody made you stay
January 09, 2002 @ 12:29 p.m.
So do my words make me any less pure? Any less messed up? Any less loved? People often judge by the words I use. Just because I have a large vocabulary does not mean I can't use a thesaurus every now and again. I'm lost as to what the point of that little rant was, but enjoy it anyway.
I would like to share a poem I wrote in 1996, when I was in eighth grade, walking to school in my little cute uniform skirt and scribbling this on the back of a used notecard. One of my favorite poems, and one of the only ones I can remember (cause it rhymes! Ooh, sorry, blonde moment).
I and He
Were never meant to be
You see
Just shared one moment in eternity
One moment of passionate ecstasy
Before He had to leave me.
That's it. Nothing impressive. I suppose it's impressive for an eighth grader.
Perhaps I should tell you the story of how I came to write. I've been writing since I could read (four years of age), but never really discovered poetry until around age ten. Before that, I always wrote dumb stories about Jonathan Taylor Thomas or something.
But with poetry, it was as if I found a new dimension. I suddenly could express myself better than I ever could before. Description with many words was never my thing -- I don't have the patience nor the attention span for it. Poetry gave me an easy device to express myself. That's why I started writing it.
Now, I write it because it is my saving grace. It is my soul, it is everything in my soul and everything that wants to be in my soul. It is my reason.
I've been thinking a lot lately. About why I write, about Kyle, about Matt, about everything. I know I need to loosen up but seeing's not always believing, now is it? I try to tell myself if only I was different, if only I could laugh and toss my hair correctly.
I think it's sick that it's all about finding someone. Aren't you supposed to be happy on your own? I can't seem to find that. I've tried God -- he's M.I.A. I've tried food -- overrated. Poetry helps, but as a temporary panacea only. I need comfort, something I am having a horrible time locating. Anyone have any for me?
Show me some love, people, 'cause I ain't feelin' it. No, unfortunately, I am not too proud to beg for love, either. I've found that every other way just doesn't work for me.
<< | >>
- - March 22, 2010
always the same - July 01, 2008
b-a-n-a-n-a-s! - December 25, 2006
elementary again - October 29, 2006
I don't like you, but I love you - October 03, 2006