Drifting among them
Wondering if they know.
Why do they assume?
Why do they stare?
People all around
But do they care?
The mess of the world
The pain it caused
The loneliness endured
Can pain be let go?
Can anyone understand?
In the ebb and flow
The business of busy
The happiness unknown.
Do you hear me?
I am among you.
Can you see me?
Or am I a ghost?
They, the proverbial "they"
What do they know?
The hurt they cause
Lost in the cold
Evaporated by morn
Pull it all together
Before you step out the door.
Put your smile on
Like a winter jacket
So very needed
Just to hack it.
One thing untouched
One thing never to evaporate
The inner happiness
The inner great.
Knowing of my innocence
And that I'm not to blame
Helps me build my fortress.
I will stay the same.
These words unfinished
Just like they left me.
A mess of a poem
Written while tears have flown
If you're the blanket then I'm the stitches,
If you're the needle then I'm the mittens,
If you're the water then I'm the kettle
And if you're the rash then I'm the nettle.
If I'm the icing on the cake
Then you're the blow, the burn, the break.
If I'm the claws of a neighbour's cat
Then you're the nose of each dead rat.
If I'm the clock on the microwave
Then you're the cancer and the grave
And if I'm a schemer's dossier
Then you're the board on which he plays.
If you're the hair pulled at hysterically
Then I'm the teacher steeped in austerity.
If you're the cuff that's come unrolled
Then I'm the base camp unpatrolled.
If you're the tea leaves left behind
Then I'm the fortune undivined
And if you're the reason I'm capricious
Then I'm the reason you're pernicious.
If I'm the strap, love, you're the sandal,
And if I'm the drugs then you're the scandal.
If you're goodbye, love, I'm the foyer,
And if I am "je" then you're "tutoyer".
Well, I am getting over you
which is good, but not the point.
The thing is, I never wanted to
but I didn't have much of a choice.
I guess I could hate you for leaving
me to deal with unfinished business
…and I do.
I really, really do.
— The End —