This one was inspired by, of all things, one of those silly facebook memes, where you have to post 5 things about yourself. I don’t always do memes, but something about it made the muse wake up and go ‘ooh, is it poetry time? Can it be poetry time now?’

Five Things

I have five things to tell you.

ONE:
You can’t see me as I am
because you don’t want to.
That used to bother me,
but I’ve decided the feeling is mutual.

TWO:
When I was small I couldn’t remember
which was a pomegranate, which was a persimmon,
which one meant ‘apple’ in Chinese,
and was too embarrassed to admit it.

THREE:
The damage repaired
was not the damage that mattered.
Patches only cover the holes
that we continue to carry.

FOUR:
Language isn’t foul;
intentions are.
And, it drives me crazy
when people can’t tell the difference.

FIVE:
Fuck it.
Thirty-four years is enough time to waste
sitting porcelain,
waiting for permission to thrive.

Five things are all I need to remind you
that the day I was born
it was raining,
and it still is.

Advertisements