Names Don’t Match Personality: Poem Saturday?! (Numero 2!)

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,

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,

my body.

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?

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

care.

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By Fabio

6 comments on “Names Don’t Match Personality: Poem Saturday?! (Numero 2!)

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