I swore I'd never let people read my poetry, I guess I lied. About some guy.
It's rising again
A painful, steady loathing
A twisting nausea--cruel and unfounded
Unbearable is the idea of being around you
Yet I fear the idea of hating you.
There's so much conscious effort in loving you
My energy is always better spent otherwise.
It may have been my suggestion and provocation
But what is meant to be so sweet will turn to my demise
The truth becomes so unworthy of explantion:
I love you so much more when you're
ten
minutes
away.
Alex this is amazing. Seriously. o.o I can't even believe it. I really do love this poem. Especially that last line, "I love you so much more when you're ten minutes away."
I'm sure it's the theatre in you, but this poem would make an incredible monologue. Think about it; Lights fade in. Stage is empty except for a small chair and vanity table, center stage. The character is brushing her hair, looking in the mirror (which is on the fourth wall). She starts delivering her lines, putting down the brush and getting up after line 3. At the closing line she puts down whatever her hands have been fiddling with and she sits back down to continue brushing her hair, or maybe start putting on lipstick or something.
The only error I see is that 'conscious' should have an 's' in it.
Great poem. I want it to be a monologue. You should maybe try expanding it and making it into one. It's really, really good. =D
ooh, i like this...very angsty as matty would say. of course, i am the ad campaign for teen angst, so i guess it's understandable. i love it a lot...i wonder who its about...