PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Life is too long.

Because you want to be someone you know.

You want to try but

you lost things you

can't write you don't know how

to cultivate someone you're not,

to force the words you can't,

to choose the things you don't understand.

I still wish I had died when I wanted to,

when I had the thirst the oceans

love the oceans love for me

when I could picture

driving

alone

at night

the breath Heaving in my lungs

the dry ice of the waters touch

I want it still

I want it still but not the way I did before,

it doesn't want me.

I call not its name during the night

I sleep

I write not its words

I dull in a clothing store selling an image

for eight fifty an hour

standing up and watching the time pass.

I believed in death just like I believed in love

fully

and now

they are both gone and me

left with the only thing I never wanted

a life spent

waiting

for something I don’t know what

don't care what

I wait for my future

wait to understand myself

I wish I still coveted Virginia Woolf's ocean

because I look ahead and I see

mediocrity

someone who doesn’t know what they want

someone who craves to be powerful with cause

but has nothing

a house a husband a job

taxes tasks cash and addiction.