Grumph

[eredien]

[More poems. No one completely evil thing going on in my life. Just generally not happy. Was feeling like this before I left college. Was thinking vacation would fix it. Worried that vacation does not help. Wondering if this is semi permanent state of being, and that last three years were a reprieve. Or anomaly.]

On Sunday evening
my heart curled up in my chest
like a snail
and died.

On Monday
I dreamed that once,
I had been a star.
Of course, I told myself-in-the-dream,
I'd moved on to bigger
better things
since then.
I thought that from a great distance,
in the same way I had once thought as a star.

On Tuesday
I had the wrong kind of cake
and two fights.

I felt the warmth of my palms
sitting in the room with my head against the wall
and thought
I must be angry

but felt little,
as one who is deep in sleep
hears a distant truck crashing into traffic:
you turn over
you mumble
but do not wake.

Comments

[raki.livejournal.com]

Sorry to hear you're feeling this way. Yes, angst poetry is not fun. Change is good.

[batshua]

Hug. Is there anything I can do?

[gaudior.livejournal.com]

Tho it is quite good poetry.

I think. My opinion and a buck twenty-five will get you cheap coffee. But.

And hugs.

--R

hugs

[weirdquark]

want to chat with people? you should call us. or we could call you. Have you our phone number?

[copperwolf.livejournal.com]

For what it's worth, I like the poem, especially the Monday part.

Is it that you need to figure something out? Or that your situation simply isn't good right now, and there's nothing to be done about it?