A poem on the spot- Sympathies Needed, I still write poetry.

[vixengrl]

Recalling you

I need an answer to my thoughts of you
and a guidebook to the way out of you
and when I think I've got my fill of you
I'm only too satisfied to be shut of you.

That you are gone from me is like a tragedy,
that sings to me with disharmony,
but surrounds me yet with a symphony--
of "How I once loved" with ferocity,

And how near still that feeling seems to me!
Because I cried sometimes with what your touch
meant to me.
And I sigh that I once thought we were meant
to be,
but it wasn't true, just like you
never were in love with me.

There's neither blame nor shame,
that I was once in that kind of love.

I have outlived that love now by a hundred years,
so it seems by my dreams and my tracks of tears,
and the way that I say "I don't know you now,"
but I know, if you showed, I would see your heart,
somehow.

That I love you still in that time and place
in my heart, which is still all of sixteen,
lets me still feel that way--like I did touching
your face,
with your hand touching me there, wondering how could it be--

listening to "The Lumberjack Song" on a bed, and feeling
strange, and amused, and touching the boy that I loved,
and being confused--I was, then.

I'm not now. I miss you, or the idea of you,
of the idea of someone who was an equal to
my "braniac" schemes and in my dreams was even an answer to--
the promise my heart wanted to keep--

for a few weeks I had been losing sleep--
while I had thought of you--
that kissable you, and heartbreaking you.
That possible soulmate that was an answer to
my nerdish dreams--

But why have schemes in place, when I recall your face
was once pressed to mine?
And I nearly had that love--two minds--

Two heartbeats pounding in neurotic time,
two lifespans crossing that small space,
too much time has passed, Longula, of the thin shoulders,
smirk I putting on Sapphos' mantle now.

A joke you alone of my compains would get.
Which is why I still think of you, somehow.
And since I can not have you now, but want you still,
I write off-hand verse and subvert my will,

Would you have been the love I recall--
when I remember you, if I remember you at all?

[BarenakedLady]

1. ...

:hug:

[vixengrl]

2. Thanks for that--it's a wistful poem that comes from a longing place--

and I guess I might like a hug:


:hug: back!

[CaliforniaPeggy]

3. My dear vixengrl...

That's really nice, sweetie...

I can hear your heart breaking...

Keep reading, and keep writing!

:hug: