Friday, July 20, 2007


“Your head will collapse / But there's nothing in it”

Choking on my flood of emotions,
I look at you.
It starts somewhere deep and bubbles up,
Its goal achieved:
I can’t talk.
I stare and know that you don’t
You can’t
Because I can’t tell it to you like this.

Words are a fake out.
They fit into neat boxes,
Sitting quietly, with a meaning,
Not a feeling.
I can’t tell you in words,
That would demean you.
I can’t tell it to you like this.

Then I leave, and begin
A process, a translation,
Not for you to understand me,
That would be too easy;
Rather for the satisfaction
Of communication.

You reluctantly sit
And listen to my unspoken words
Poured out of me willingly.
The flood reaches you,
And you run from the honesty,
Supplied to fill your empty head.


Anonymous said...

I love your poem!

Gina said...

I really liked the line about words fitting into neat boxes... is the title a sybol for something else? It was unclear.

Maria said...

Deep & angry!!!!

Maria said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Maria said...

Sorry I messed up on the post I just deleted....
So the title comes from the narrator's dance around communication because she doesn't want to say anything because the "you" will misinterpret/not understand/get the best of the narrator because she broke down and said something?

The It Blog said...

this reminds me of fall out boy idk why though ... it was really good (: