Poem warning.

[butterflydreaming]

This does not refer to literal "yesterday", but rather, a much further time past.


Upon Reflection

I don't feel this way today
But yesterday, I could have ended
My method closely at my hand
When dying was what I intended

Sometimes, I'm still dipping under
Underneath that thick grey sea
Drowning though I fight the current
Weight of waves, crushing me

Strong enough to keep on swimming
I can keep my self-made vow
Yesterday, I could have ended
But I don't want that ending now.

...

Clearly, my poetry fits what is called the "confessional style".  Funny that it took me so long to realize that.

I'm thinking of retitling this journal from "Your in the Wrong Place, Because I can't possibly be who your looking for" to "Caution, falling poems ahead."


There is also this one that I started yesterday.  It began to sound self-deluding and self-pitying to me... uncertain if I will leave it unfinished.

I remain unread
by the one whose eyes
I want upon me
I remain no more
than a compilation of words

I can hardly live my life
Let alone, for another's notice
Yet here, waiting, I remain
Littering my world
with broken pearls

I cannot compete
why do I try...

(something more here, then ending with)

...hidden from those eyes
I remain unread.

That one seems to be a companion to "Abandoned Fiction" -- writing as a metaphor for my relationship issues -- so I may come back to it and treat is as a fictionalized poem, rather than a confessional one.

Comments

[elihice.livejournal.com]

You know, you have a real talent for poetry.

And if can express things that way, better. From personal esperience I think it's ten thousand times better to put things in paper (or writing at least...) than to keep them inside.