The poem that shouldn't be written

Folder: 
2017

I always do this to myself.

I think it’s okay to rip off the band aid.

And I end up bleeding

All over again.

 

I think the wound has healed.

But eventually, I always

Tear it open again.

Leaving another hole in me.

 

It seems like we could pick up

Where we left off

Like nothing has changed.

And I could find home in you again.

 

I could easily fall back in love with you

Who says I’m not still.

Part of me wishes I would.

We could be as great if not better than before.

 

Your house still smells the same.

It brought back a lot of memories.

I didn’t realize how much

I missed my second home.

 

I know you feel the same.

I know you hope that

We could pick up where we left off.

You hope that we could make up lost time.

 

I wish I could still be part of your life.

I don’t want you to kiss other people.

I don’t want you to fall for someone else.

But I don’t want to be that girl.

 

I don’t want to keep you from being happy

I just wish I could be part of it.

I can’t be selfish.

I hope you can move on.

 

I can’t go back

Even if part of me wants to.

I know I made the right choice

Even though sometimes it feels wrong.

 

This time I need to let the wound heal,

And not reopen it.

I know it’ll leave a scar.

And when I look at it,

I’ll think of you.

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 6/4/17

View hannah9712's Full Portfolio
S74rw4rd's picture

A very interesting circular

A very interesting circular progression as the lines are read through.  We begin with the wound and end with it, making it the dominant metaphor in the poem and, therefore, everything else is really part of it, or an approach to it.  I like this kind of control in a poem, and not a whole lot of poets seem to use it any more.  I might pause to recommend, if you have not read his stuff already, the great American poet, Wallace Stevens.  He is difficult:  I have been reading him since 1978 and I still do not have his stuff mastered to my satisfaction.  But he, also, exercized a very tight control over all of his lines such that, over his complete career, there is a great deal of internal pattern that brings the poem together.  I think this poem of yours demonstrates that same kind of artistry.


Starward