July 5, 2010

• This Is Harder Than I Thought *EDIT*

  With the absence of my family, I’ve taken this opportunity to spread my work around me on the living room floor.

  On my left is the printer. To the right of the printer, is the printer paper. Directly in front of me is the stack of poems and prose on printed paper. To the right of that stack, is the face down stack, the papers I flip over when I’m done editing. To the right of that stack, are the rejected ones.

  I’ve been laying on my stomach, reading through these poems I haven’t read in a number of years. It’s harder than I thought it would be. These poems bring up memories of very dark times in my life, when I used writing as my escape, a way to get the shit out of my head. I’ve had to take several breaks, because some of them are just too much to think about all at the same time. Most of this poetry, I’ve never posted here on Xanga before. Below are a couple of examples. Just an FYI, I haven’t yet edited the computer copy of anything, only the paper copies.

  —

  Hiding in Happiness

  Every day she paints her face
  Foundation, powder
  Eye shadow, eyeliner, and mascara
  Sad eyes reflect at her,
  While the plaster starts to crack from the smiles
  Her heart doesn’t show,
  But she feels it break inside her chest
  She practices happy eyes and laughter,
  So no one knows
  No one knows the sad secret from long ago
  Barely a whisper on her memory,
  The plaster sometimes cracks
  She repairs them alone,
  Until once again her painted face shines with glee
  She dances like a ballerina,
  Whirling and twirling around truth,
  The smile forever pasted on
  The lie has almost become truth
  But she knows better
  Tears don’t slide down her face,
  Or appear in her eyes
  She feels them inside
  She finishes her dance strong,
  Bowing, with one arm folded,
  So her hand lies gracefully on her heart
  The other spread out
  Applause thunders around her
  Are they praising her dancing
  Because it was just beautiful art?
  Or because of her ability to lie?
  Sadness fills her completely
  Because no one knows
  The elaborate mask she wears
  Paints a picture of the happiness she does not feel
  All alone now,
  She takes it off and silently cries
  ‘They will never know,’
  She whispers with quiet determination,
  As sad eyes gaze back at her

  —

  Tears of Jade Blood of Rubies

  When the last tear is shed
  The last breath I take
  When the last drop of blood is spilled
  The last cut I’ll slice

  Tears of jade
  Blood of rubies
  Red and black memories
  Satires of this life we laugh

  The humor we saw wasn’t real
  The laughter didn’t last, it faded away
  You saw what you wanted to see
  Ignored the pain in my eyes

  I gave you every clue
  Those sad eyes I had
  Those real tears I cried
  Those scars I showed you

  You never acknowledged this hurt
  Never breathed a word
  I suffered as we laughed
  You knew the ways I hurt myself

  Poetic injustice of this chained life served
  Never looked to tomorrow
  Only to these wounds I cover myself in
  When will it be enough?

  You’re the last thing running through my mind
  This suicide I thought through
  I thought I’d find myself in you
  But that was lying to myself

  I know these tears running down my face
  Aren’t from pain at all
  As I slowly die in my misery
  Yours is the last number I call

  —

  *EDIT*

  I am cleaning the house for when my family comes home tomorrow morning, then I will take a shower…. then I will come back and read all of your guys’ wonderful posts =]

  • 3:58 pm
  • 8 Comments