poetry

Well. I haven't posted or written any poems in a long time, so I figured, why not? These are a tad old, but I haven't written anything good recently. And sorry for spamming blogger. You don't have to read these, don't be silly.


She has been dropped
(not unexpected)
straight into her old life.
The changes she made
are still waiting for her -
but for now
she is swallowed
by the way things were.
She begins to realize that
she never really left.

The books are piled on the floor
(same as they always were)
She is embraced by friends
who have cut their hair, but
otherwise feel the same under
her hands.
At night, she sinks into bed
(her old blankets and sheets)
and dreams of things she
thought were forgotten.

She dreams about boys
who left her long ago.
She dreams about teachers
who no longer remember her name.
She dreams about children.

She is not a child,
not anymore.
But for now, she still
slides easily into a
life that a child made.
All her old clothes still fit.

And she thinks sleepily back
to her new life.
It drifts away from her,
as if it were never real
in the first place.
She studies her face in the mirror,
hoping for some clue,
some proof that she's
grown up.
But she doesn't find any.


I'm a little unsure of this one. Is it really bleech? Somehow the third person, while not my favorite, seems to work for it.

All of a sudden,
I feel separated
from my name.
It no longer means
me -
instead it is (just) a
random collection of syllables.
It could belong to anyone.

Indeed, more than having
no meaning at all,
(what is in a name, anyway?)
it seems to conjure images
of someone not me -
plump and contented,
comfortable -
but prim, secretly
straight-laced.
I can hear you address
me, in that way of yours,
but at the same time,
you are talking to someone else...
I am nameless,
hovering above you, unnoticed.

But then the moment passes -
my name is my own again.
I rest securely in
self-knowledge,
and close my eyes,
dreaming of the touch
of your fingers

as you trace the
letters of my name
in the hollow of my back.

sorry for the poetry spammage. ;) as always, your comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated...

also, the horrible horrible headache has almost gone. i need a heating pad of my own...