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alternate definitions
by Ava BluI was mistaken when I said I was a poet,
a writer,
a friend
and a lover
I was mistaken when I told them I wouldnt leave,
that today would be forever
I was right when I said I didnt have a soul,
that those things could not possibly exist
around a person with only an empty cage inside
and I wasnt sad to know these things
on all accounts, I seemed just fine,
just dandy with the results of growing up
and finding paths away from home
I think there are too many words to fill a page,
an abundance of occupied space that really shouldnt have been
occupied
youve been giving me new windows to see out of,
brighter stained glass doors
and a revised definition for the word together
this page suddenly doesnt seem so full
and the whiteness isnt so stark
consistently, I have been living with flattened tires
and a pretentious sense of love
I think youre my way out of this crowd,
my way for a renewed vision,
and Ill be damned if Im going to mistake
absurdity for kindness again.
01/28/2009 Posted on 01/29/2009
Copyright © 2025 Ava Blu
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 01/31/09 at 05:11 PM It's always a hell of a crowd, too. Something like a baseball stadium packed into a walk-in closet. Great write. |
| Posted by Richard Vince on 12/29/24 at 08:00 AM "Too many words to fill a page" indeed - there's a real sense with this of there being a whole lot more you're not saying, of the blank sections of the page being fuller than they look. |
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