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SLAM

by Rachel Johnson

I can’t decide if this is an apology.

You were ambitious,
I give you credit for that.
So much more ambitious than
I ever thought, but you lacked
confidence, in yourself.
There was never the belief
in your heart that you could ever be
more than a barista—
a struggling artist
living in the coffee shop on words
you never could get right.
You thought it was romantic,
that the lifestyle suited you,
but I don’t think you knew much
about yourself.

If I could sit down with you
in those cafes you always inhabited,
where you wrote in angst, anger
forming your words for no reason
if only that it was an emotion
you knew how to express.
If I could say to you, I would,
that we are different.
I am not who you were;
most of you died in the formation of me.

I do, I want to be sorry,
but I don’t think that I am.
Because, I didn’t like you,
and I grew up believing
I never could.

I don’t know who I am now,
Or where in this life I am going.
I have some ideas, but ideas
aren’t concrete answers to soothe
the anxious questions I have
about What I Am.
What I know is that,
I like myself,
much more than I like you.
For that, I guess,
I am sorry.

You deserved love.
Least of all from yourself.

05/23/2014

Posted on 05/23/2014
Copyright © 2024 Rachel Johnson

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 05/24/14 at 03:13 PM

This seems to be self reflection and I like the exploration of looking back. The last two lines - I'm not sure I get the use of "least" instead of "most", but maybe I need to reread and ponder.

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