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Because Words. Simply Paper. by Rachel C JohnsonThere is a moment
in everyday I have been alive,
which is too many to count
and growing by the spinning
of this orb we call our home,
that I have thought about who
I want to call myself
and about finally writing that novel
Ive been penning in my head
for so many years.
When it comes down to it,
I am the only thing
that has ever stopped me
from being truly honest with myself.
Maybe I wasnt cut out
for this. Maybe I dont know
why exactly I was born.
And I tell myself
every one of those days
that I will learn from my mistakes
and finally make a change.
I will finally put onto paper
what I have been thinking
all of this time.
I dont, and it isnt because
I have no talent with words.
But, I do believe that I simply
cant put anything onto paper.
Except for self-motivational,
Ill learn my lesson,
Ill make something of myself
kind of bullshit that
makes me cringe and
feel stupid. I am tired
of telling myself I am better
when obviously I am worse.
And all I want to do,
every second of every day,
is finally write what Ive been meaning to.
The sad thing is, I know what to say.
I know what I feel,
and I know whats the matter.
And I know how to tell the story.
Its all this contempt,
all this pent up, unreliable anger,
that keeps getting in my way.
06/01/2008 Posted on 06/01/2008 Copyright © 2010 Rachel C Johnson
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 06/04/08 at 09:09 PM Terribly poignant, negatively selfabsorbed to the point of being immobilized (being able to express in writing what one is thinking and feeling). Honesty that hurts! May you find the answer to your dilemma. |
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