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Not Myself: Poetry From the Other Side of Me

Page 2

by Elsha Hawk


  They can’t hear me, stuck inside here.

  They don’t know.

  It’s hopeless.

  Why me? Why am I stuck here? Why now?

  I just want to be free.

  Free to run, laugh, cry, free to speak, to be.

  Again.

  I can’t even get these feelings out.

  Set them free, forget!

  It’s really crowded in here.

  I hate crowds.

  Let me out!

  Nobody knows, no one can hear.

  The twilight zone between my ears.

  Not Myself

  Don’t know what happened

  Woke up one day

  Not myself

  Didn’t take a different form

  Still my body

  Just not me

  Inside I felt all wrong

  Didn’t talk or act

  Normally

  Realized I missed you

  You made me hollow

  Deep inside

  I wasn’t worried or scared

  You’re still my friend

  In my heart

  But I didn’t smile

  Or enjoy life

  Without you

  I wish you’d come back

  Make it all right

  Don’t know when

  So I can feel happiness

  Experience joy

  Have some peace

  Giving Up and Letting Go

  My little sister is growing up

  And she is beginning to venture

  Exploring life in her little world

  Sure to find great adventure

  Being the older, I'm overprotective

  Being the younger is hard

  It's like she's got two mothers to obey

  Both of us have up our guard

  But that's a mother's place not mine

  I have to let her go

  She's so much like me in my ways

  I don't want her to be just so

  I protect her from my flaws

  I want her to excel

  I push for her to understand

  But she's younger, and can't tell

  I'm just trying to help her

  But I've got to step back

  She'll fly on her own wings

  Carry her own burdens on her back

  How else will she be independent?

  How else will she find the right path?

  For I can't help her, but give advice

  And advice is what she hath

  How will she use it?

  Will it help her to succeed?

  I've got my own trials and burdens

  I can't give to all her needs

  So I'm giving up and letting go

  The bird will touch the sky

  She just may need no push at all

  To spread her wings and fly.

  Little Brother

  Curious, sky blue, observers of the world

  Dotted in the center with ebony spheres

  Sometimes hold a shining light

  And sometimes hold a sparkling tear

  Tan leather big-bowed boots

  Tread crammed with dirt and rocks

  From countless hours of imaginative indulgence

  Amidst all of the taken-for-granted things in nature

  Freedom, enjoyment, ecstasy, crouching low in a hole

  Amidst orange and black, dust covered, pastic construction toys

  Dust covered himself and paying no mind

  To the distractions nature provides.

  Enraptured in play, constantly moving

  Roughly textured, black, and bent

  The thin limb from a tree, gripped in his hands

  Holds and unseen purpose

  Added to his motion, a centrepidal pole around which he rotates.

  Enraptured with the tracks left in the dirt by toys

  he watches the dust settle and his city develop

  His machines lay foundations deeper than the eye can see

  Where no knowledge will ever enter to discover

  The base of all his reasoning

  The sun shines calmly,

  The breeze blows leaves across the yard.

  Fallen leaves lifted by breaths of air

  Seem to carry with them dreams to the clouds.

  The Place Between Asleep and Awake

  In the darkness I dreamed of you

  Your presence upon my shoulders like a mantle

  Comforting and warm, sitting near

  When I woke you were not there

  The loss of the soft friendship shawl

  Left cold in the depths of my soul

  I wondered what you were doing this day

  Were you sleeping in, head buried under the covers

  Or were you waking and stumbling like me

  In the mirror I saw a blurry scene

  Like drowning in a pool of smoke and ashes

  The me reflected felt unworthy of your love

  So I brushed the dreams away

  Washed them down the drain with my shampoo bubbles

  But I couldn’t help thinking of you all day

  Would your real presence be like my dream?

  Your voice as smooth and your eyes as full of me?

  Life is only perfect in the early morning quiet

  Missed Opportunity

  There he stood

  On the verandah

  Looking for his date

  There she stood

  In the parlor

  Nervously scouring the place

  His best friend

  Comes out to chat

  Invites him to a game

  She nods and greets

  Looks about the scene

  Thinks he's not in this space

  Deep bass booms, but not his heart

  As he glances back

  He missed his chance

  She is with another guy

  She takes the arm

  The two begin to dance

  Heartbroken, he loses the game

  Prepares to leave

  The dark sky brings rain

  She sways and sighs

  This is not the guy

  For her love, her eyes strain

  Connect with Me Online:

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/ElshaHawk

  Writing Blog: https://moonlitnotesbyelsha.blogspot.com/

  Personal Blog: https://wellintentionedindecision.blogspot.com/

  Happiness Journal: https://dailyspoonfulsofsugar.wordpress.com/

 


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