this poem is not about you.
i am waiting, waiting,
waiting,
and you are gone.
but this poem is not about you.
you are falling asleep on the couch
again. the tangled blankets beside me
a shadowy body taking your place.
but this poem is not about you.
you are a cup with a hole
at the bottom. i am always trying
to fill you, and you are never full.
but this poem is not about you.
you are grasping hands
and reaching arms
and tongues just waiting to speak.
but this poem is not about you.
i am sending you messages
with capital letters and exclamation points,
and you are sending back silence.
and then more silence.
just remember, this poem was never about you.
****
tonight is a writing night. i guess. apparently.
this is not what i meant to write, but it is what i wrote.
maybe i will write another poem that is not about you.
i'm not sure when my thoughts started using line breaks.
i am not sure when i became so fragmented.
so sparse.
*Hand Me Down - Matchbox 20
i am waiting, waiting,
waiting,
and you are gone.
but this poem is not about you.
you are falling asleep on the couch
again. the tangled blankets beside me
a shadowy body taking your place.
but this poem is not about you.
you are a cup with a hole
at the bottom. i am always trying
to fill you, and you are never full.
but this poem is not about you.
you are grasping hands
and reaching arms
and tongues just waiting to speak.
but this poem is not about you.
i am sending you messages
with capital letters and exclamation points,
and you are sending back silence.
and then more silence.
just remember, this poem was never about you.
****
tonight is a writing night. i guess. apparently.
this is not what i meant to write, but it is what i wrote.
maybe i will write another poem that is not about you.
i'm not sure when my thoughts started using line breaks.
i am not sure when i became so fragmented.
so sparse.
*Hand Me Down - Matchbox 20
hmmm...so I'm going to analyze. It's about feeling lonely...right? It's not about the person....but about how the writer (you maybe not you) feels lonely, alone, almost deserted.
ReplyDeletei have somehow moved from being queen of camp my-words-my-meaning to being a resident of camp words-belong-to-the-reader. so honestly, whatever you feel like the poem means, that's what it means. to you. to someone else it could mean something entirely different. and wow does that not make you want to roll your eyes at me so hard?
Deletei can tell you, though, that that's not exactly what i had in my head when i sat down to write this. but neither was this poem. originally, it was meant to be about me (or whoever lol) in relation to other people? i dunno how to word it. like if i tell you that every time a father walked into a room, his son would flinch, i'm telling you about the son but you're really learning something about the father. you know? so it was supposed to be like that with each stanza being about a different person but all of them giving you an idea of who the narrator is. obviously, that's not what happened (which is why i said i might write another one). having said that, i think that your analysis fits well with the poem. i totally get it.