Jan 2013
She just got up...
And left.
I- I told her to leave-
And she did.
I looked back at the ruffled bed,
blue and stripped and rumpled-
And it was empty....
The white door stayed shut.
I run to lock it.
As the click of the latch obeys
The force of my fingers,
The door disappears.
I turn around;
Left standing there is a full-length mirror.
I stare at my entire self-
Forever-
Glancing at every inch of my skin
And how wonderful my mind looks on the outside.
I speak and my ears are tickled by the fancy
Of my notes.
And left.
I- I told her to leave-
And she did.
I looked back at the ruffled bed,
blue and stripped and rumpled-
And it was empty....
The white door stayed shut.
I run to lock it.
As the click of the latch obeys
The force of my fingers,
The door disappears.
I turn around;
Left standing there is a full-length mirror.
I stare at my entire self-
Forever-
Glancing at every inch of my skin
And how wonderful my mind looks on the outside.
I speak and my ears are tickled by the fancy
Of my notes.
I was jealous of this girl who I thought was beautiful, much more beautiful that I am. But it got to the point where my mind would taunt me about it. It lay her down on a bed, seductively, but I wasn't turned on I was more angry with myself for not having her looks. I was so done with it that I told her to get up and leave. I wrote this poem and she never came back to tease me in my mind. I had gained a sense of clarity in realizing that there are other people who are gorgeous in this world, but that doesn't make me any less than them.
