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jon-tobiasPoems
I know I aint much for looks And you might not disagree when I say Statues have more substance than this I know I can’t Stendhal you to a standstill It doesn’t mean that I can’t make you breathless Like when I make you laugh There is so much beauty in your laughter That while you are wiping tears out of your eyes Doubled over like you were trying to find your breath on the floor I forget that I don’t like the way I look when I smile And I smile I know the math of aesthetics is lost on me But you can save your symmetry For building blocks and butterflies Bad habits Scars And an awkward affinity for lopsidedness Made me Come Balance me out Because so often I feel like a fat kid Sitting on a seesaw Alone Or a ****** Trying on different sizes of life In carnival mirrors Or a Greek artist Who has chiseled all the wrong parts To perfection Before he understood realism Realism Is a twin sized bed at 3 am After the cold seeps through the window pane It is cobwebs stained black from a house fire Before I never realized we had that many It is a vanity Reminding me how not to be vain Unless you mean this poem This poem is vain Realism Is this It is me And it is you Perfectly human And nowhere near beautiful Unless beauty is symmetry And symmetry is when you balance me out By being the other fat kid on the seesaw Or the person who makes normal mirrors So I can see what I look like in my own skin Not perfect But that doesn’t mean I don’t have ways Of making you breathless Come Let me make you laugh again Let me make you breathless
0
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 6:18 AM UTC
Let me Make You Breathless
I know I aint much for looks And you might not disagree when I say Statues have more substance than this I know I can’t Stendhal you to a standstill It doesn’t mean that I can’t make you breathless Like when I make you laugh There is so much beauty in your laughter That while you are wiping tears out of your eyes Doubled over like you were trying to find your breath on the floor I forget that I don’t like the way I look when I smile And I smile I know the math of aesthetics is lost on me But you can save your symmetry For building blocks and butterflies Bad habits Scars And an awkward affinity for lopsidedness Made me Come Balance me out Because so often I feel like a fat kid Sitting on a seesaw Alone Or a ****** Trying on different sizes of life In carnival mirrors Or a Greek artist Who has chiseled all the wrong parts To perfection Before he understood realism Realism Is a twin sized bed at 3 am After the cold seeps through the window pane It is cobwebs stained black from a house fire Before I never realized we had that many It is a vanity Reminding me how not to be vain Unless you mean this poem This poem is vain Realism Is this It is me And it is you Perfectly human And nowhere near beautiful Unless beauty is symmetry And symmetry is when you balance me out By being the other fat kid on the seesaw Or the person who makes normal mirrors So I can see what I look like in my own skin Not perfect But that doesn’t mean I don’t have ways Of making you breathless Come Let me make you laugh again Let me make you breathless
jon-tobias
Written by
jon-tobias
American
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 6:18 AM UTC
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