exshakespeare (exshakespeare) wrote in poetryworkshop,

The poem that I posted somewhere else

Hi. Here's the poem previously mentioned.


this is me writing you a wordless letter.
i'm sure that death and birds exist somewhere.
the opposite of birds exists somewhere too.
i'm sure about it. i can't imagine the opposite
of death, eventhough little kids repeat it
continuously in classrooms very far away from
here. here. here, all the windows are shut.

i draw spirals into myself. i try to reach you,
i really do, but sometimes, most times, i
end up believing that you're not there and even
if you were, you wouldn't care for one more
face in the subway, one more face in the elevator
at the moment that you want to be left alone.

i know how it feels wanting to be left alone.
no more misinterpretations, wasted feelings and
bitter ends. no more me and you walking by the river
on a non-existing sunday of a non-existing spring.

we're kindred spirits, someone might say, but someone
might say whatever. there are no limits to what someone
might say. someone is to big a person.

metaphorically speaking, there is a whole world beyond
these walls. there are mothers and rain. there are
all opposites working for the same denial. and, then,
your face against all odds. the touch of your skin
not being valued. the gentle weight of your eyelids.

someone may think that i'm in love. someone may think
whatever. i'm here. you are
(and i just feel like not ending this sentence.)

someone doesn't know us. there are no limits.
someone could never know us even if
(and i just feel like not ending this sentence.)
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