I no longer speak the language of my soul
and cannot hope to understand
the way it yearns for that which I am unable to name.
What lies inside is a song
whose words I have forgotten,
and cannot hope to recall.
My tongue stumbles across the syllables it used to speak
with ease,
and I am two where I have always been one,
watching the beauty within myself
but unable to capture it.
For the first time
I am powerless against my own entrapment, pitifully incapable of
setting my heart free from the confines of my ribcage
or singing the song that battles
so furiously within me;
desperate for an audience.
This poem is all the days I couldn't write, even though I wanted to. This is me sitting in the school library for 45 minutes, scrawling empty words across blank pages and saying nothing even though I had enough words to tell a million stories, all simmering just below the surface.
This poem is me breaking down walls and finally finding something to say, and remembering how to say it, and it felt. so. good.
And it sounds cheesy and whatever, but this poem gives me hope that I am still a writer, even when I forget how to write.
On a not-so-introspective note, IT IS ALMOST CHRISTMAS AND I AM EXCITED. I've been reading Christmas books and singing Christmas songs and wearing my ugly Christmas sweater and friends I am mostly pretty happy! *it's the most wonderful time of the yeeeearrrr*
How about you??? On a scale of Eeyore to Tigger, how much have you been looking forward to the 25th? ☺
xx
Olivia
p.s.
just a little note...I did write the poem posted above. I guess maybe I wasn't clear, sorry for the confusion!! school muddles your brain, friends.
and cannot hope to understand
the way it yearns for that which I am unable to name.
What lies inside is a song
whose words I have forgotten,
and cannot hope to recall.
My tongue stumbles across the syllables it used to speak
with ease,
and I am two where I have always been one,
watching the beauty within myself
but unable to capture it.
For the first time
I am powerless against my own entrapment, pitifully incapable of
setting my heart free from the confines of my ribcage
or singing the song that battles
so furiously within me;
desperate for an audience.
.jpg) |
| yes, those are legwarmers. you wish you were this awesome. |
This poem is me breaking down walls and finally finding something to say, and remembering how to say it, and it felt. so. good.
And it sounds cheesy and whatever, but this poem gives me hope that I am still a writer, even when I forget how to write.
On a not-so-introspective note, IT IS ALMOST CHRISTMAS AND I AM EXCITED. I've been reading Christmas books and singing Christmas songs and wearing my ugly Christmas sweater and friends I am mostly pretty happy! *it's the most wonderful time of the yeeeearrrr*
How about you??? On a scale of Eeyore to Tigger, how much have you been looking forward to the 25th? ☺
xx
Olivia
p.s.
just a little note...I did write the poem posted above. I guess maybe I wasn't clear, sorry for the confusion!! school muddles your brain, friends.
Tigger. Definitely. :P
ReplyDeleteME. TOO.
DeleteLove. That. Poem. It's great.
ReplyDeleteI think I'm a Roo. Arguably even more excited than Tigger. Dunno, maybe ties. Also I now want legwarmers so I can be cool like you :(
Thank you! It did honestly take me 45 minutes to write, and just as I was starting to think "I can never call myself a writer again," (I'm a little dramatic, dont'cha know) this poured out of me. Initially I didn't even like it, but when I read it through a second time I was like, wait this is kinda good. :p
DeleteOooo Roo! Forgot about him. His excitement levels tended to go through the roof. Haha. You can be a Roo, that's perfect. With legwarmers from Canada. :D
The legwarmers were..umm first thing I noticed. SO cute! Great quote.
ReplyDeleteAnnnnd I'm totally Tigger. He's my favorite besides Pooh of course, so it makes sense. ;)
lol thank youuuu! I'm enamored with them. Everyone at school is like, what are those things on your legs. And I always reply, "they are LEGWARMERS" with the utmost pride. :p
DeleteOoo good choice. I always loved him too. He was so happy. :)
Probably about a Piglet. Waiting patiently. By the way, what's the name of the poem and who's the author?
ReplyDeletePiglet! Also a good choice. :p
DeleteAnd I actually wrote that poem...maybe I should add a little note or something. It doesn't really have a title (I suck at titles, boo) but you can call it "Language of my Soul," if you like. I know it's kinda long. :/
Omw. I wish i was that cool to have those leg warmers!
ReplyDeletexoxo
Haha they're actually my favourite! Thanks! ;)
DeleteThis post <3 all of it! I love your poem, and once again I am wishing I were able to write poetry...
ReplyDeleteIn other news: I am tigger-on-caffeine-excited for Christmas! :)