About Change

I need to be f*****g different, she said.

All right, all right, next time we will not do doggy style.

 

My poor translation skills made me think

she was talking about sex;

silent, she blamed all men.

 

I turned off the lights and closed my eyes;

she stared at the dark infinite starless ceiling.

 

No, she was not talking about sex,

she was talking about evolution.

And when the morning came she had evolved,

she had changed and I missed all the signs;

she had changed, she was gone and I can´t reach her anymore.

 

She meant to be different,

 

like a phoenix bird wishing

to be fire and then ashes;

like a cloud longing

to be rain and rivers;

like a whisper hoping

to be music and be heard.

Yeah, she meant something like that.

 

But when the morning came I noticed

an empty space

on the warm,

warm,

warm bed;

 

dancing towards my nose her smell,

her smell,

her smell;

 

she was at the rooftop about to fly

about to fly

about to fly away.

 

I need to be f*****g different, she said

And now she is dead.

Reviews

[ProfessorPadilla]

Really powerful poem! I really enjoyed the read.

[Honey-Bee]

Wow! Interesting poem with good metaphors... like a cloud longing to be rain and rivers...nice! Love this poem!