Sorry I didn’t post anything last Thursday; I had a busy week last week. Two of my dear friends got married on the 17th (congratulations!), and I also had a big test to prepare for on Tuesday (hopefully my last one). So between all of the stuff I had to do, and catching a cold, I honestly didn’t even remember to write anything.
The two I wrote this week are about sort of the same thing, but sort of not (that totally didn’t make any sense, sorry). I suppose the best way to describe it is that I’ve been having a lot of issues with body issues the past few weeks. It’s not something that’s new by any means, but it’s never something someone wants to think about. Usually I’m pretty content with who I am and how I look – and like everyone else from time to time I think “gee I wish I looked like so-and-so”. But I think it’s been subconscious emphasis by other people around me about my looks that have gotten to me. And I honestly don’t believe anyone in my life would ever intend to hurt my feelings in such a way, but intentions shouldn’t be used as an excuse. I don’t make fun of how people look, or make people feel bad about how they look. I have no intention to do so, and I don’t. Intentions are great, but following through with them is what really counts. The two poems kind of reflect frustrations I’ve had with a few people in my life. They sound angry, and they sound really dark, and mean – and I suppose when I wrote them I was upset. I tend to write poetry when I’m upset, because it helps me express myself. Two people have pointed out to me recently that I’m a lot “calmer” than I used to be. I agree to a point – I am “calmer” in a matter of speaking, but it only stems for the fact that I’m more tolerant of people, and I’m a lot better at letting stuff go. And for the record, I just want to say, yes I can get angry, I’m fucking human, what do you expect – but usually the people who have seen me the angriest, are the people who have deserved it the most. People used to hurt me a lot, a lot of my friends used to hurt me a lot – and I would get angry. Who wouldn’t? And most of the time, this “anger” I felt was just the easiest way of expressing how deeply hurt I was, and how sad I felt. Anger is much easier to get across, and people tend to react to anger.
Don’t get me wrong, I adore all of my friends. Even though they have flaws, just like me, I still love them. The two poems are angry – and I apologize in advance to anyone who thinks it may be about them or someone else. I cannot say who they are about, because the inspiration for both of them comes from every aspect of my life: past events, current events, family, friends, etc. I didn’t write them with the intention of hurting anyone – but I suppose if those same people never had the intention of hurting me so deeply that it’s been bothering me for a very long time, maybe this is just penance. I just want anyone who cares to know, that I don’t sit here all the time thinking like the following poems will illustrate. Often I give people too many second chances, give people the benefit of the doubt, and forgive too many things that maybe I shouldn’t have.
I love my friends, often what bothers me is that I wish they cared about me just as much. But what more can I do, but be myself, and hope that one day people will accept me entirely. And despite the fact that I have been hurt, I do forgive them, and I still care about them. I just needed an outlet for my frustrations, and I think this helped a lot.
Enough with the rambling, on with the poems!
I Cannot Be Anyone But Myself
You scrutinize my basic face –
I know I am far from fair;
you say my body is a disgrace
and with your looks I cannot compare.
The words sting like nothing before;
unkind yes, but very true –
you are beauty, you are adored.
And I will never compare to you.
I thank you for your sincerity,
I silently curse you all the same.
To find one like me is a rarity,
but being myself is such a shame.
Your Words Sting – Sting Like My Fist Meeting Your Face
You believe in yourself, and you alone;
I must remove you from your throne.
This so-called truth that you treasure,
brings us something far from pleasure.
And if I had my way at this time
you would be punished for your crimes.
Though technically you are a friend,
I will be there when you meet the end –
not to be there for you to hold,
but to watch your righteousness unfold.
I will personally remove your crown,
and I will be there when you drown.
How can I care so much, yet abhor
one person? I cannot take it anymore.
You treat others without respect
and wonder why one might object.
Inappropriate and without tact,
but defensive when one reacts.
Cruel to others and a narcissist,
not to mention a complete sexist.
And though at times I think you’re great,
you always make fun of my weight.
I am fat, I am already quite aware;
do you enjoy to cause me despair?
You claim it is not so, but I still question
why you put me through this oppression.
I wonder why I keep coming back,
letting my defences be attacked.
With anyone else they would have paid –
they would know to be afraid.
And though I would like to make you atone,
being hurt is better than being alone.