|Cause and Effect
Author: Faithless Juliet PM
I fell in love with silence when I was young.Rated: Fiction K - English - Poetry - Words: 494 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 9 - Published: 01-11-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2620790
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
-1Cause and Effect
fell in love with silence
when I was young;
as a powerful
pull tight C's
together as though
my lack of words
from a greater source,
sight it, insightfully,
and this is not a
or a hate poem, a rape poem,
an in or out of shape poem.
It is a declaration
that my edges cannot be schooled convincingly;
even though, I let them take the shape of silence.
It is at times a zealous hush,
a violently raging whisper. Still.
And with a wisp I'll let it become a meek quiet.
Not quite there stare.
A glare peeking girlishly from deeper inside myself then I like to admit.
the agony of thought,
hot and vengeful
let it fill me up deeply
a menace to my own parody.
Yet, this is not a caricature,
a fractured bone, confession,
or a lesson taught, or to be learned.
I want to say that I am more
fiercely delicate then the echo of a thunder clap.
More enamored then a season full of two hands bonded together
(It was the
shape of twenty fingertips never loosened,
a levy kissing unbroken shores).
I do want to say a lot of things.
want to be comical,
I want to pull apart togetherness,
to a structure of indecisive forthrightness.
I want to be an unapologetic mess by day
and a hardened know it all by night.
and if given the right
second in time
when I let words languish from pink lips I'd say:
You hurt me, but I needed it.
You have a terrible starvation, and I feed it.
But, I don't, and I won't.
Politeness is a pity when pen and paper beckon,
and like I said this is not a love poem,
a woe-is-me poem,
silly girl younger in the summer air poem,
the hit and miss of finding yourself
later then expected, and wishing that being given the chance
of a redo was not out of the question,
and did I mention that this is not a hate poem?
or waste poem?
It's not an I hope
you die in a catastrophic freak accident poem,
or I wish I had said the right things to you at the right time poem,
of myself then any mirror
could give me.
A portrait of my thoughts
for you to look upon and understand.
Stronger then the miles of bones
that make up my awkward shape
when I fell into your full speech.
Words heavy with tongue sloshing,
and agreed without thinking,
or blinking -
I was, to be honest sinking
inside the notion of a silence that I fell in love with when I was young.
a lengthy declaration,
multi-marginal, and semi-sweet.