"misplaced" poems - Hello Poetry

and here i am again at the intersection of pedestrian language & old wives tales swallowing gum like 7 year memories opening umbrellas inside cause i can't seem get away from all of this rain i ********** with my left hand cause i was told back in highschool that "it feels like someone else is doing it" it gets me wondering about the difference between losing you and finding out that some one else found you or my sleep or lack thereof its starting to tear me apart i keep having this dream where you are in an unfamiliar body of water trying to wash my poetry off of your hands or the one where something happens in my chest every time you sit on someone else's bed i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced but don't have the heart to look for anymore tired of you saying my name like you're trying to bury it i'm tired of wondering if you can tell the difference between the absence of my voice & silence the other day i almost started sobbing at work when a woman asked me about our equipment i was explaining how things come apart and almost mentioned your name it made me think of how you used to say things like "what would you do if i showed up on your doorstep one day?" now, i haunt the windows in my house i don't leave for weeks at a time i sit on the porch like the dog you didn't shoot behind the shed the one that refuses to die until you come home again i told somebody once, that you didn't even know what my voicemail sounded like i wonder if they thought it was because you are so important that i never let it ring that many times before picking up or if you dont know what it sounds like because you've never called you can't be the ****** weapon and the search party i'm tired of all the seats to the ferris wheel in my chest being empty tired of your voice being the one i look for in abandoned places that one sound i beg to bounce back down vacant hallways i just seem to stand there in all of that quiet like someone looking for a mistake on an eviction notice so i guess the hardest part isn't letting go it's forgetting you ever had a grip in the first place and since you've been gone i wonder if when you pushed yourself away from me you used your left hand so it felt like someone else did it

0

Aug 17, 2014

Aug 17, 2014 at 12:54 AM UTC

TomLeveille

epithet

and here i am again at the intersection of pedestrian language & old wives tales swallowing gum like 7 year memories opening umbrellas inside cause i can't seem get away from all of this rain i ********** with my left hand cause i was told back in highschool that "it feels like someone else is doing it" it gets me wondering about the difference between losing you and finding out that some one else found you or my sleep or lack thereof its starting to tear me apart i keep having this dream where you are in an unfamiliar body of water trying to wash my poetry off of your hands or the one where something happens in my chest every time you sit on someone else's bed i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced but don't have the heart to look for anymore tired of you saying my name like you're trying to bury it i'm tired of wondering if you can tell the difference between the absence of my voice & silence the other day i almost started sobbing at work when a woman asked me about our equipment i was explaining how things come apart and almost mentioned your name it made me think of how you used to say things like "what would you do if i showed up on your doorstep one day?" now, i haunt the windows in my house i don't leave for weeks at a time i sit on the porch like the dog you didn't shoot behind the shed the one that refuses to die until you come home again i told somebody once, that you didn't even know what my voicemail sounded like i wonder if they thought it was because you are so important that i never let it ring that many times before picking up or if you dont know what it sounds like because you've never called you can't be the ****** weapon and the search party i'm tired of all the seats to the ferris wheel in my chest being empty tired of your voice being the one i look for in abandoned places that one sound i beg to bounce back down vacant hallways i just seem to stand there in all of that quiet like someone looking for a mistake on an eviction notice so i guess the hardest part isn't letting go it's forgetting you ever had a grip in the first place and since you've been gone i wonder if when you pushed yourself away from me you used your left hand so it felt like someone else did it