It took me ages to learn how to separate we from I
and to finally see the person I suppose
Everyone else saw; the “I”
presented in peals of laughter and a love
too intense for either of us to bear. My
love, a hurricane, beautiful from a distance but riddled with scars.
I do it because
everyone needs a taste of unconditional. They
blister and spiral because they have
yet to learn…to know how it feels to have stayed.
It’s something that you learn to live with,
to always have a piece of “Me”
left behind, initials in a heart that no longer
knows that letter of the alphabet. I am missing more than
I should, but I have retained what is most
important. In a sea of capsized people,
There is one letter I will always have.
- I
from Scars by Nikita Gill. Written for my fourth Creative Writing prompt - a golden shovel. This one was fun because you're forced to stay in these parameters of what the poem down the side will let you do. It was weird and awkward, but I'm pretty pleased with the outcome. It was cool discovering the golden shovel form. Read the last word of each line and you have Scars by Nikita Gill :)