PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

i guess im not going to the fair this year.

this summer will not be labeled with a boys name,

and my mother will not be able to say, "was that the chris summer, dear?"

i will not be hugged underneath the fireworks.

i will not be loved by a boy under star bursts.

the symmetry ends here.



sometimes i wonder what it means to have a best friend.

and how little others know of what it is to have a connection.

now i sound selfish, but i have known it-

not in a man, but in a beautiful girl you've never met.

sometimes i wonder what happened.

when the bomb dropped and blew me to pieces.

and if we could ever return to the world in which we lived-

what i wouldn't give.

sometimes i resent the words i write about wanting to send you off right.

i want to take you home, wearing matching clothes, and hug you tight.



this summer is beautiful in a painful, fresh way.

sadness makes the soul expand, between the constrictions of pain.

critique this.  critique this as we struggle to find things to say.

humans are so unconcious to the words underneath the surface.

there is a river flowing beneath you that you can't interpret.

interpret this.  interpret this into your language.

were on different countries now,

and it seems our silence is heavier than our vows.



divorce me.  don't listen to the whispers of my greatest fears.

just promise me i won't grow up to be like my parents.

just promise me that one day, this all will make sense.

this year, things will be different.

the symmetry ends here.