[ october 20th , 2014 ]
could those light brown eyes
(or were they hazel?)
have read me
before i was aware
that i was a story?
i remember
how they startled me so
that i never dared to look in them
again
they seeped through me,
as if you were searching for my soul
because you lacked one of your own.
it's not right for me to feel this way towards you,
since you warned me before
i knew
and before
you knew
but i'd hoped you'd change
because of what you meant to me.
but what did i mean to you?
i was just there to fill the space
and justify your jokes
(the kind you justify by saying
you have one of me
or someone like me
in your life)
i know that i meant nothing to you,
all those months of hoping
were in vain
i saw it all
in your eyes
when i last
saw you
YOU ARE READING
past oblivion.
Poetry"what can i really say?" used to be my words, when i didn't know as much. when i got older, i responded to myself. "everything." now, i realize that i can use my breath to speak on everything in existence, from dust on jupiter to the depths of hell...