i hope one day i will be able to write this more beautifully. it will most likely morph into one of those twelve page poems that ginsberg would clap for. someone said it was beautiful. i almost cried when reading it aloud-but i had a cold to hide the sniffles. the title is ironic-we all know this is far from the final note.
final note to -------
you were right.
this only child syndrome
has tainted me.
oh, if you only fidgeted
as openly as i did.
you see, i tried to scar you with flaws,
to cover your name with curses.
i've used the word cliche
more times than i've breathed.
it is the only correct fit.
i still labeled your perfection
as i clung to colorado
and dreamt of your sister.
i sometimes woke to your face
or caught your scent in the wind.
i hated myself-
that i could never cure you
or bring that same smile to your face.
i knew it was over
at the sight of blue jeans.
yes, you were right.
i am not used to this.
i don't ever feel beautiful
and i'm still waiting for sycamores
and berets to fill my mind.
it's true. i used to dream
you'd call me your friend.
i just don't sleep so well anymore.
1 comment:
i really think this is my favorite so far.
well. i say that almost every time i read something of yours. but seriously.
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