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Literature Text
I write when I am happy
I write when I am sad
I write when I am angry
I write when I am glad
I write because I feel
And tonight I write for you
For you make me happier
Than any who have come before
I write when I am sad
I write when I am angry
I write when I am glad
I write because I feel
And tonight I write for you
For you make me happier
Than any who have come before
Literature
Signifying nothing
I.
I have crumpled pieces of paper, collected from corners in my mind
I have notes, and words and terrible troubles, all unwritten on a blank
piece of paper
Typed with no hands
Sung with no voice
Said with no words
And yet I have this, still: silence.
The echo of eclecticism, of a vast void of words, signifying nothing
and everything.
You.
You have these cast out watery words which you read from my post-its
You have these notes, my words and wonderings, all written, right here
on your screen
Typed with these hollow hands
Sung with a volume-less voice
Said with the only words I know how not to speak.
Do you hear them howling in the dark?
Literature
I am
I am.
I am the shadows of a supernovaed sun
The air of a deep lagoon
The speckles of dust caught in space
Your hair after inescapable sex
I am the love
you fear
and the hate
you crave
and the innocence of a voice that whispers
kill
save
love
eat
sleep
I am the darkness
I am that darkness
I am the light
And you are the shadow
Shadow of a broken moon swept up by dying things
Harvesting fragments of a fallen celestial being
once called goddess
once loved and adorned
now lying on the wayside
waiting to be collected
by the shadows of her past
I am your past
I am your future
And I am tired
Of your desire
to not be present.
Literature
Should I? Am I? Will I?
Everyone told me I couldn't wear boy's clothes
That I would look improper
Wrong
Like a hobo, or a lesbian
But did I listen?
But did I care?
Everyone told me not to wear skate shoes
That I would look boyish
Stupid
Because I can't skate
But did I listen?
But did I care?
Everyone told me I couldn't dye my hair
That I would look fake
Bitchy
My hair would be fried
But did I listen?
But did I care?
Everyone tells me not be crazy
That I seem stupid
Mental
Something's wrong with me
But do I listen?
But do I care?
But what if they're right?
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Just a poem I wrote for an amazing person while listening to Audrey Assad sing the song Sparrow.
© 2012 - 2024 FiyeroTigelaar
Comments11
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Amazing! I could relate to this. 
