Problems in the Pavement
- "I feel the beat of my own words as they tumble
- A stutter, a jump in the waves of age that crash
- Down, encircling my head, shooting an emotional gun
- A bang in bed, so hard it breaks.
- The love causes a concussion."
- I think too much.
- I've lost the inspiration I've used since I was a child.
- I can't just let thoughts fall from my lips like they used to.
- I wish I could speak out about emotion;
- The path they've led me down,
- And have people think they're beautiful and heartfelt,
- But I don't have that capability because lately my
- Mind has been overcrowded and empty,
- I contradict myself like a wasp that has no sting.
- What's the point?
- I am a childhood poet that can't write or rhyme,
- I am an adolescent performer with no character,
- An adult artist without a clear muse and so
- I scribble on a page hoping to find
- Someone who will respect my patheticness.
- I listen to music, wishing that I could sound like
- The people who know what to do the next day,
- Because I have no clue.
- Thinking that far ahead leaves holes in my vision
- Because something is missing,
- But I cant see far enough to find it!
- My entire life has been an open book of poetry,
- Lost languages scattering pages that have been burned and drowned.
- My entire life has been a magnifying glass,
- Trying to find my way, the right way, and society's way,
- But I can only follow one path and that one
- May not even be paved yet.
- And as a girl who hated wearing shoes as a child
- And who looks to her childish heart for guidance,
- That may be a problem.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world