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a skin grows over.
by Meghan Helmichthere's a ghosting stab in my side,
and i can't help but attribute the weight
of it to a deep hunger. to eat something
that sits so fine on the tips of large hands.
when the centers of my eyes go out of focus,
i am running through hurdles. leaping above
your head and watching it pass below.
there are hopes of meeting someone new in you.
oh, imagining better, stronger, safer
men, clustering behind those foolish glares.
think of the futures that grow out of real
people. falsities being made true in me.
we nurture a series of encounters
into something not quite tangible or notable.
it will not be written down or memorized, will not
continue to be questioned. but i will always study. 12/03/2007 Posted on 12/03/2007
Copyright © 2025 Meghan Helmich
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 12/03/07 at 05:14 PM ...meghan, i love the existential-ility of these lines, melady...love too the way you use words/concepts etc...good point also in its direction re: life, us, them, it...good 'un...peace, chaz |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 12/03/07 at 05:39 PM Sometimes the best learning ends up being less than notable for so many reasons. I think, if I've interpreted what was going on when you wrote this, I get it. Anyway, it reminds me of my experiences dating, the dating games played, and the learning, and the notable and not-ever-notable encounters (thankfully most not physical) - hoping, hoping that someone with real substance, a good man, would become tangible. I did get a thick skin out the deal, and that was good. For me, you summed it up very well! |
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