Poetry

This one is pretty personal for me. I'm not going to go into detail about what it's about (although I'm sure it's quite obvious) but, simply as a poem, I'm kind of proud of it. I feel like I'm lucky to be able to express what I'm feeling in a way which is so beautiful - it's always been really natural for me to put what I'm feeling into words. And this came about when I was feeling a lot of things which I didn't know how to handle or what to do with because although it is natural for me to write it all down, actually feeling it is something... Unfamiliar. I guess I'm just learning how to feel, and it's really painful. But it helps. It's better than not feeling at all.

Anyway. I don't know why I'm doing this and if anyone is still reading by this point (if you are, thank you) but I just wanted to say that letting yourself feel, really feel things - anything - is really important. People I love have taught me that. I'm sorry for sounding cheesy or emotional or mysterious, but... I just wanted to do something with this. I think it would make a few people proud. 

~~~

I knew you once;

and you knew me too,

and lately I've been

longing for that time

more than ever

I've always said

that I have a

terrible memory;

somehow I

seem to remember

names more than faces

But

believe me

I want nothing more

than to remember your

face, and not just by

absent-minded glances

at a photograph

I've always thought there

was something painful

about photographs;

that sort of beautiful

pain you might associate

with love

Because

although a moment can

be suspended in time,

it is simply a reminder

that it will not happen

again; not like that,

not ever

And although of course

I know you will not

happen again,

I wish you could laugh

again, and talk again,

and live again and breathe

again because it seems so

horribly unfair that others

carry on while you cannot

One day, I will ask her how

you smiled, and why she

always says your eyes

sparkled

I will ask her about you

and maybe then I will not

have to keep salvaging

shards of a person that I

feel like I have never truly

known, because in that

way those shards will only

ever be of my making,

and what good is that to me?

I am selfish

and I am sorry

and I long for those

shards of you even if

I must keep cutting

myself on the pieces

Even if it is just

to see whether

the shards of you

reflect the shards

of me, like shards

of glass

If they do, then I

will realise that I

didn't have to look

very far to find you

in the first place.