I’m sick of hearing poets talk about their feelings
Everything is so emotional
How to feel better
why you feel worse
When to feel guilt
When to feel
like nothing
like words with no definition
just written to look good on the page

I need a break
A pause
from all the interpretation
moving away from the point
The end
I just need to be
Begin or end
I don’t need to know
I lost my concern
when forward slash
forward slash
I (dot) came
and you
left me in a sub-folder
marked History

And the pain continues
I call myself ellipsys
write me back
correct me
give me something
to look forward to
give me a reason to move beyond
this stanza

I asked for a pen
so I could end this life
this loneliness that coincides
my regret
but all I have is a page full of poems
and feelings that I keep balling up
into wads of paper
throwing in a trash can
only to look in a mirror
and have them reappear

Fuck yo feelings
poetry is a joke
I don’t need to be another punchline
I refuse to be a spoken word
Inspiration to a clown
audience full of agreers
Like they know this pain
like they knew your love
Like they understand this hell
Like this bleeding maleficence
isn’t dehydrating my soul
Like I don’t already live within
an end that no period could punctuate
Like I have anywhere to go
but away
you took my up
you took my tomorrow
You took my ability to feel

And with this
possessive in nature
desperate in its attempts
to make us do the exact opposite of what we feel
Commit when we lust
Lust when we covet
Covet when we tire
tire when settle
settle when we commit
It is with this
that I leave you
The way you came
Open to opportunity
Fixed in my gaze
Wrapped in my feelings
Never again will I need either of you
And ever again will I remain …

©2010 Dew

Solitude – Coming Soon

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