I try to be honest
in spoken
unbroken English
but sometimes
it's just not too easily said
without clambering over the vowels
and tripping on the consonants.
I'm fragile
like sliversheer icicles
dripping still from the awning.
No, not always
but yeah
now and then
I'm broken and melting on concrete.

Sometimes I'm even insecure.
I'm like a child with a crayon
drawing you pretty picture
and throwing it away
before the world can ever laugh.

The sad thing is, I know.
I know I shouldn't be this way.
I know that I'm your shooting star,
but everytime you look at me
it's like you want a supernova.
I'm reaching out with my littlegirl hands
and trying to grasp what you mean when you say
"Good enough."

You see
I can't stop
I can't let up
I can't slow down.
I feel like I'm the caffiene that powers your life.
If there aren't enough accomplishments of mine
accumulated in your thick bloodstream
maybe then you'll power out and die.
What that means is
I'm not allowed to break.
You don't understand,
I have a future.
I can't throw that away for any weakness.
Stress is nothing.
Stress is livable.
I can't afford to be sad
or angry
or horny
or happy.
Succeed and that is all that matters.

You are half of the constant force
that drives me to be not all that I can be
but more.
You are all of what teaches me that I can do better than that.

One day I'll thank you for pushing so hard-
by then you'll have impaled me.

11/29/2003

Author's Note: Is there such thing as writing too much? These poems don't seem good enough to me. Haha, figures I'd say that, what with the poem I've just written. I've been writing like a maniac. I Guess I am sorta stressed. School mainly. Nothing much else. I'm just so grateful for the time I get to spend with friends and other significant people :)...

Posted on 11/30/2003
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