Ride

I wrote this poem about a year ago for the poetry unit of my writer’s course. It was inspired by the idea of losing the people that you loved and valued most. Although it has been a year, this poem still resonates with my current life experiences and my current feelings. I stumbled upon it on my laptop earlier today and decided to share it. I adore the simplicity that a poem can have or the complexity it can bring. I love how each individual interprets and identifies differently with a poem, and how one poem can take on so many complex and multi-faceted dimensions and qualities. I love how poetry links words together in the most beautiful and profound way. But above all, I love how it expresses all of your innermost thoughts.


Ride

He was greatness, he was weakness;

He left me when I needed him most.

The lazy mornings on the balcony

Cigarette smoke floating away,

Afternoons spent wandering the square

And evenings we spent on the pier;

Just the quiet still air and the lull of the waves

The serenity and peace that I no longer know

And the crooked smile I never again will show.

The nights we spent together, wherever.

We were nomads travelling where we pleased with no destination

Our lives were at a standstill, and all we had was each other.

For you this is a game, but for me this is my life.

****

He was selfish, he was selfless;

I awoke to him sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to me.

I had dreams of becoming a singer,

Or a beautiful poet

But those dreams died when he left.

They were dashed and divided into a million stars in the night sky,

Stars that I would wish upon over and over again, sparkling and broken.

He had sustained my dreams and I suppose that they left along with him.

He had a love for antiques and weathered books

We would spend hours searching for treasures at trade shows, and random nooks

He left his treasures here when he left me,

Perhaps he intended to return.

Perhaps he never meant to.

For you this is a game, but for me this is my life.

***

He was love, he was hate;

It was odd seeing him just sitting; he always had a book in his hands,

I should have known that something was different.

I loved him.

Maybe if I had done something different, he’d still be here

And I wouldn’t be alone anymore.

We could have been star-crossed lovers,

We could have grown old together.

I don’t know if he ever knew that I loved him,

I don’t even know if he would have cared

That was just who he was.

I also hated him.

 I hate him for leaving me.

Alone

I hate him for what my life is.

I still don’t know if I hate him for everything he’s done,

Or if I love him for everything he is.

For you this is a game, but for me this is my life.

**

He was the beginning, he was the end;

Without turning his back, without looking me in the eye, he quietly said,

I don’t love you anymore.

When he came into my life

Everything became a whirlwind of excitement,

He was a complete stranger seemingly appearing from nowhere.

I had never been outside of my city, let alone this country;

He fascinated me.

He was the Count and I was his Haydee.

He charmed me with his knowledge

And on a whim, we left town together at dawn without saying a single good-bye.

I wonder where he is now.

He could be on the other side of the world for all I know.

He could be experiencing it with someone new,

While I sit here, alone, slowing fading away

Like Fantine, left deserted and destitute

He took away my childhood in his stride.

I have nothing left in this world.

For you this is a game, but for me this is my life.

*

I am complete, I am broken;

I quietly said back to him, It takes getting everything you ever wanted

And then losing it to know what true freedom is.

He never came back.

His books still litter the floor,

And a thick dust has settled over his treasures.

Sometimes I’ll spend my whole day sitting by his books

Pretending he’s still here reading them to me.

He reads a sentence as my fingers tie another knot,

He flips the page as I tighten the noose,

He’ll glance up at me as my feet lift from the floor,

And then he is no more.

I may be free but I have nothing.

I have nothing but I am free.

For you this is a game, but for me this was my life.


Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s