Thursday, 31 March 2011

fuck a commission.

I want you. No actually I don't.
Fuck you. No wait you know
I don't mean that, i love you. oh,
fuck.- fuck off. Not you.
This is embarrassing.

Can I start again?

Every poem I've ever written has been a love poem.
I've never written to influence others political views
or to have lyrical content that impresses others on the circuit,
Evidently i haven't ever tried that hard to even rhyme.
Every line i write tries to recreate that first time
"your eyes connected with mine,
and something instantly,
inside of me
straightened my spine"
The winter coat girl
The say it right girl
The love of you girl-
You're every poems protagonist
and in your honour,
without your blessing,
I've written hundreds.

I put the pen to the page
and it's like nothing ever changed
but everything has, I have.
Dude- I love you. and i want
you to stop. Maybe it's because
I've written too much but
when i see you now, you look
just like my past.
You're prettier now though
and you flirt more
you didn't do that
when i was yours.
Some could say we've
been through the wars
but all we really are
is two young people
that don't yet know
what they're living for.
When you left me
I didn't want to live anymore
now we talk and you act like,
you don't know what you left me for.
And if there's one thing i hate
it's this fucking back and forth.

I'll never forget the gift i was given
it's your poems that got me commissioned
winning slams, joining collectives
weirdly enough asked to talk on politics.
That heartbreak you gave me turned a profit
and you're coming back now
because you're an opportunist-
(idon'tmeanit iswear idon't honest)
the exact same one i fell in love with
and before the window of opportunity closes
i still don't know what my decision is.
Even now, at my strongest
I get brought to my knees
just thinking of your kisses.
And i find myself again
writing a goodbye poem
that will remain unfinished.