Thirtieth

I throw frames to the ground when I write
Watching the glass shatter and melt into a puddle, turning
The timeline of perfect lives into the indecipherable chaos
It’s always been: awkward and candid and uncomfortable
Funny, though not in the moment and usually
Unplanned, like the engagement ring he presented
And she said yes, though her nails weren’t polished
Warm like the wrinkled smile of the gone grandfather
You wish could still kiss your cheek but won’t again, and
I often wonder about the old friends that I sometimes
Wish I never had to forget, but did, so I write because
I live every day, and still I forget to live; and

I’ve learned that you can’t tiptoe around poetry
It’s the thirtieth, and I’m still on chapter one

Reviews

[Winslow Des Totes]

Hmm, I sense there is a lot of hidden and personal meaning to this piece as I am unable to fully grasp each line, leaving me wondering? WHY? :P But seriously, beneath the obvious depth I feel great weight and cannot help but again feel humbled by my lack of understanding! And here I thought I new the English language well ;) hehe still there are many great lines to this piece which in it's entirety make up a very interesting and thought provoking poem, one that after 38 views deserves more attention and admiration, so for all the lost souls who couldn't either admit their own defeat or accept your own brilliance, I say bravo! Excellently enticing write! It shall leave me both puzzled and intrigued! Till the next :)