Fear My Poems!
So. Last night, with a friend at my house, I wrote lots of poems which are apparently good. I don’t believe you, Susan. But I’m going to assault your eyes with them now, so…here goes.
Fall Apart
Falling apart on the inside
It feels true
I can’t control my thoughts
Spiraling away from me
Streams of unthinkable things
Death
Blood
Pain
They haunt me
They taunt me
They help me fall asleep at night
They torture me
I ask
Why
Do I have to feel these things?
I am f
a
l
l
i
n
g
Into the things
That you only meet in nightmares
And I don’t understand
Why
Meaningless
The truth is a lie
And
The lie is a truth
Lies and truths
Definitions are so simple
Words on a page
But much more complex
In reality
They surface again
They are real
And they mean everything
And nothing
The Blue Rock Near The Porch
The blue rock
Near the porch
Has a key in it
I stare at it
Thinking
Deciding
My key is gone
Lost
Missing
But if I take this one
Then when they bring back Ginger
She can’t get in
And I can’t save her
Because they said
That if she couldn’t get in
They would take her away again
And that can’t happen
The blue rock
Near the porch
Has a key in it
They will bring her back soon
She can get in
She will be safe
I don’t know yet who Ginger is. What I do know is that someone took her away from her family, and there’s a key in the blue rock near the porch. I don’t know.
