So…here’s something I wrote last night and I figured I’d be bringing back Poem Saturday/Sunday. Off we go!
Names Don’t Match Personality
As the sun sets over the horizon,
the moon begins to rise from the corners of the earth,
and in this pattern the two have a decent balance,
but the problem exists there.
They’ve heard of one another but never able to meet.
why should they be kept apart
when together they could create such beautiful light?
Some days the darker side is more present than the heavenly,
if a heaven does exist,
but the white edge is always visible,
which is something I hate sometimes.
Being left the odd one out,
even in the group that are your best friends,
because you know you’re different and can’t change that one piece you so want to.
The person who makes me laugh the most
seems to be the one farthest away
because he or she has something I don’t;
a strength I can never grab that always slips between my fingers,
a power called confidence.
Always trying to grip what I can,
trying to find a solid ground,
but the waves keep rolling beneath my feet
like attempting to catch air with only toes.
A weakness that makes me the most vulnerable,
So small, thin, and fragile.
I’m no threat.
The rage that boils inside me
like stu in a pot buried in the steam of the kitchen
that I can’t protect what’s closest to me.
Always having to be guarded,
or locked away to be kept safe,
by my oldest friends and family.
What I want and sometimes seem to care about the most
is standing my own ground and having people
who care what I think.
The important thing is not being a pet
because of my size
but an equal, a peer, someone of status.
My friend, my sister,
you and I have had fights in the past
that seemed unimportant to you
but killed me inside.
My thoughts were sick and twisted
as you blamed me for things
that I’d never done or heard of.
How could you?
You had said you’d stand up for me forever
and shield me from the world.
That’s not what I ever wanted.
I had hoped you’d look up to me the way I saw you
as a hero or at least someone with anything to offer.
You complemented my skills,
told me to keep trying,
but I could always hear the babying in your voice
as you looked down on me like a child.
I was always there
but you only noticed me when I was
weakened and attacked.
You saw it as an opportunity to be the hero
and save the poor child.
All I wanted was recognition.
Now that I’ve gone past all that,
I come to my fears.
The regular ones are no oddities;
needles, heights, and others…
but the ones that you’ve preyed upon before
are the most important.
The fear you’ll leave me,
the fear I’m not good enough,
and this is what brings out my shy side,
the one that hides from humanity
and only is available to creatures
I believe I can handle.
I’ve tried to use our nicknames as often as possible
because it makes me feel like I’m a permanent addition,
but deep inside I know that you’ll eventually grow tired of me
and find a more entertaining, smart, or “cool” individual.
This is when the jealousy rages;
when there’s a new addition, someone with so much more than I have.
It worries me.
I’m so insignificant I could be replaced with an ordinary rock.
If a name classifies a person, mine is a lie.
Cleo means “bright, shining” but what I see is the dull remains
of someone who was.
Even before my personality developed and my ideas were heard,
there was nothing special there.
I was ordinary, and felt misunderstood when people
thought better of me.
Do you think I have potential?
If you do, you’re so far off that it’s laughable.
I’m not anything interesting because
I know how to put a few silly words in order
on a screen.
What you’re hearing
are my thoughts.
These are things that you might never understand completely
and joke about.
No, I’m not dramatizing even though it might sound like that.
Yeah, I have the good life.
A nice house, solid nieghborhood,
no family debt.
But then you’ll see me in place among my family,
the odd one out.
The copy of my dad’s mind
placed into a new body that looks like my mom.
I’m not my brother, trying to always comply with everyone else.
I was, but now I’ve seen the light.
The darkness is now only visible as a sliver
but the opposite is the way I prefer it.
Never have you noticed if I’ve been sick only a day,
and that’s not a big deal,
but when you can’t hear me yelling in the hallway
or talking about how I really feel
and then bring up your own problems that overshadow mine
but are an exaggeration in their own way,
I know you can’t, don’t, and won’t