looking back.

I wrote a poem in Creative Writing today.
First poem Ive written in nearly a year.

I was reading -- and actually reflecting on -- the stuff I wrote on like, October 9th, 13, and November 22.

So here you go.
Im not really that proud of it. But whatever.
I tried to be sincere.




I look back.
And I can see my soul.
The little marks.
The marks that made me fall into bed sobbing.
Made me incapable of composure.
Incapable of breathing.
Incapable of thought.
Unable to even live.

Every emotion.
Every thought.
Every last sensation.
Are all so perfectly imprinted upon my memory.
And all I need.
To go back there, to that place.
Are some words.
Words on a page.
Written in darkness.

The eloquence.
The insight.
The grace that touched my writing.
Vanished with everything.
With the raw emotions that held me.
With the desperate need for truth.
Everything.
But still leaving these memories.

We dance around them.
We never speak of it.
You'd deny it to the ends of the earth.
I never would.

I said I'd try to forget.
I also said I wouldn't.
Negative predictions always materialize.
I have tried.
And I have failed.

Around.
Endlessly, around.
You refuse to acknowledge.
I refuse to force you to.
And so those crazy words.
The ones we once said?
Now never to be said again.

Love.
Is it still wanting happiness?
Not for me, but for you?
My perception never shifts.

Love.
It has become all-too-familiar.
It is an awful kind of torture.
But I love it.
I love you. Forever.




I also think I did okay on my historyyy.