chaotic prose and bad penmanship.

The authors of the past must have warned people like me

hiding clues in charactors and metaphors

they might as well have been speaking a dead language

because I didn't get the message

that you were in fact the one put here to love me.

 

I did what any confused girl would,

I showered the nightsky with questions

"how will I know when it is love?

Will I see it hiding behind trees ?

Will it be so bold that even a blind girl couldn't miss it?"

As I wait for the answer all I see is you

and how you embodied all those notes I wrote to my friends

or the poems I wrote in class when I was just a child

 

Oh that poetry, in all it's innocence.

The language I used was chaotic prose

written on post it notes in the worst penmanship

that descerning eyes would wave off as madness.

 

Maybe the childish naivity of my adolescent mind

told me all that I ever needed to know

about love, life and how to live life in daydreams

two decades pass and the mystery still holds it's magic,

who are you and why are you not in my bed tonight?

 

Reviews

[EMF]

Stunning. Breath taking. So many of the ways I could review this poem, and in all honesty it is a brilliant lance of pain to the heart, but no review will do it justice. I can only hope the readers will see it as it is. Painfully exquisite.