Poem #9

COPY
He looked exactly like you,
Smiled exactly like you,
Made eye contact exactly like you,
except he was not as rough as you.

It confused me. Don't get me wrong, nothing happened.
He just.... was different.
I still think about you, hence why I reeled back when I saw him.
I still think what a tool I was for having hope.

I'm not making an effort to contact him.
Why? Because of you.
I am scared that I am only just going to be thinking of him after nothing happens.
I am scared that both of you will be on my mind.

You are like twins, but your rough around the edges.
His nice... so are you.
But both in different kind of ways. He is appreciated by more people than just I.
You... you have this thing about you that I seem to only see.

I really don't get it either.
Lost. That's where I'm at.
Lost in this emptiness that has been here for years.
I miss not feeling like this. Not feeling like I'm not complete.

To be honest... the copy...
Part of me, Part of me wanted to go there.
Even though he wouldn't fill in the void at least there would be something there.
One day someone will replace you and understand how much they impact me life.

No more footsies...
Infact, next time I see you it will be cold.
I will say hi but there will be no more moments for us for me to second guess.
No more moments for you to pretend and carry on that facade.

Poem #8 (why? because I feel like it!)

The way things are

"The way things are will stay" said the holy man.

He wore a dishcloth and a soiled pair of boxers,

but this did not make him no less holy.

"Change will come to those who wait" he prophesied.

We all walked past him and avoided eye contact,

we veered where we walked to dodge the old man.

"When we are happy we get what we want" he continued.

It amused me that even though no one listened,

he still babbled his words and believes them himself.

"For how can we love someone else," he paused.

He saw me gazing at him from across the walkway,

I pretended to not realise and eat my sandwich.

"that is when we will find our other half." he finished.

He smiled as if his chores were done for the day,

packing up his chair and sheet he walked away.

"But how long must we wait" I called to him.

He just averted his gaze and continued on,

veering his path so it didn't cross mine.

"How long must I, we, wait?" I asked the next day.

His stare sat on me for a short while,

he smiled because he finally had a follower.

"It is as long as it takes for you to be happy with yourself." he replied.

I don't understand what he meant,

was he being cryptic on purpose.

"How will I know that I'm happy?" I retorted.

His smile wiped from his face,

as if I had sinned the greatest sin alive.

"If you don't know what happiness is," he quietly whispered.

He stood up and he was not much shorter than I was,

his hand placed itself on my shoulder.

"...then you will be euphoric when you find it." he chortled.

I still question the meaning of happiness,

and still wonder why I had not found it.

Sometimes...

Sometimes I feel things that arn't really there;
Like a ghost sensation.
I feel outcasted at the best of times;
I feel included at the worst.
The ways things plan out always,
Always seem to leave me in the dark.

If there was something I was meant to be in;
I will not see it.
Don't think it's because I don't care;
Sometimes I don't notice.
Don't think I'm selfish,
Just sometimes I don't connect.

Put a bag over my head and you will see the point;
Nothing will have changed.
I may still be able to communicate;
But it will be muffled in vain.
Don't take it personally,
I'm just a little disjointed.