When One Belives The Lie...

the dream and dreamer--die.

(two poems inspired from my classroom observations)

* * * *

Your Own

I Am the

Everything

You Dreamed me to be

But did not

Become.

I Am the

Hope

That disappeared

After the Lullaby you sang to me

Each night that I

Cried myself to sleep.

I am the Dose—one too many

That over did me and

Unraveled

The Two of You.

I was the Spark and the Flame that Burned with

Desire

and made you

Proud to call me Your Own.

But when you didn’t see me looking, I caught a Glimpse of the Two of You.

You Modeled me a Picture, I followed to a T.

And so, the Who of You I turned into, was never supposed to be…

Me.

My dreams have Died. Now you sit by my side.

(the ventilators keep me breathing) yet I am not really Here.

Still, I can feel

Your tears wet my withered flesh.

And you sing to me

One Last Time…

The Lullaby from when I was still

Alive.

* * * *

(Sweet 16)

I am a

10^th grader.

Gender, unrecognizable to my

Self

Perhaps to you as well.

Do you See Who I Am?

(I don’t either)

I want to cry, but I forgot

How.

I am constantly castigated with depraved, yet familiar voices; adamant

Faces, crowding and raping my

Soul.

Voices. Faces. The Albatross around my heart, keeps me from

Self-Governing.

I am only 16 years old. Struggling in a Society that holds no room for autonomy,

Only antipathy and

Gloom.

(emerson knew this too)

I am a 10^th grader.

I want

Freedom

The Self-Reliant kind.

I am a Barrage of feeling-less

Technology.

If I could remember what it felt like to not be

Numb,

I guess I would know that I was

Sad.

I crave to be seen with

Candor, Ebullience and

Love.

If I could see All that I Am

Without the Noises, faces and Words—

Who Do You Think would be revealed to me?

(you are right.)

I would be…

Ecstasy.

PoetryadminJune 9, 20121 Comment