existing as a day
i.
I ponder over big words…
the ones with more then two syllables,
the ones I pretend I know the meaning of-
like I actually understand the conversation…
I’m a fake-
a muggle in a world of wizards,
a child in a world of adults
playing pretend
ii.
I spend time lingering under the shade
provided by a deserted football bleacher-
watching pale people become ghosts
and hearing lonely ones read to phantoms-
I spend hours in the way of a breeze
waiting for time to blow me away-
Strangers ask for my name,
congratulate me for existing-
I work off their praise-
thrive off the attention
June has left me lonely
craving sun, then shade, then night
iii.
Treasures of the earth uncovered-
turned over thanks to a great conscience…
the spirit of the conversation darkens
as confiscation starts.
Building pyramids from dirt-
monuments from bones-
carving the future from our history
it’s a biblical text.
The story of our bodies:
from genes to genesis,
we can draw abiding conclusions…
We are treasure
our bodies turned over for a greater good-
our language shifts into an ugly sound-
and we are stripped of our identity…
We were dirt
turned bones-
our history lost to a magic fable.
It’s a biblical prediction,
the story of our hands,
from start to end.
We draw the line at tragedy repeating.
iv.
I got cut by the sharpness of the tongue,
got stung by the floating ember of a dead fire,
got killed by the mistranslation of bodies.
I fail on definition-
fall to deeper meaning-
I cling to kinder words
in hope of getting reincarnated as a princess.
Can one fault me for existing?
I find flaws within my drawn conclusions-
too prideful to admit to them.
Consoled in the ‘happily ever after’ theory
While knowing I’m going to burn
in hell
v.
Pillows full of dust-
I’m begging to suffocate
on allergies
and pain medication
vi.
“It’s for the aesthetic”
Thrifting long dresses-
only to strip them of their nature.
Eating cookie dough ice cream-
as I’m melting in the summer heat.
Listening to Lana Del Rey-
while driving in the rain.
Wearing long sleeves
in the summer.
Keeping a journal
of my meals.
Wasting away
by the liquor store.
I’m right back to where I started
a whole two years ago.
2 thoughts on "existing as a day"
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I love how you used line structure, and your topic was super clear while still being poetic!
I love the way you shape these images on the page. Gives me time to pause and take it in. Lots here.
These line caught me:
Thrifting long dresses
Wearing long sleeves/in the summer.
Wasting away/by the liquor store.