My Dearest Me,

               A poem about a search for identity

 

 

My dearest me,

 

Do you remember the times you looked in a mirror?

You gazed upon yourself, and simply sighed

“Am I in there somewhere?”

 

The mirror melts back into sand in my hands

But slips through the cracks and floats out everywhere

It gets in my eyes, in my throat and I choke

Floating like myself, my hopes now just dreams

 

Then sand becomes boiling hot water

I’m also reaching my boiling point

Liquid scalds perfect skin, until water’s mist

And evaporates like myself

 

Gone

My reflection, my being, melted, flowing, evaporated

Gone

 

I carve a mask, meticulously crafted

Painted with a bright smile and hopeful eyes

And they believe the act, however fake it may be

 

I’m surrounded by doors. There are so, so many

Young, so young.

Ten thousand million choices

But can’t choose one.

 

The doors become trees; once again alive

Oh how I wish to be alive and strong too

I run through the woods, I run and I run and I-

 

Stop. There’s a fork in the road

Then the paths multiply, but which do I take?

The paths soon become one and infinite

 

One more. One more tree left

I climb up, up, up into the branches

If I get a high enough vantage point

I could find myself and a way out

 

A branch breaks beneath my foot and falls

I see myself falling with it

Sap leaks from the tree

Like Mother Nature's blood and tears

 

The sap becomes colourful. Paint?

My second chance drips from the tree

So I drag colour with my fingers over my blank face

 

Art. I am art.

I am beauty, I am colour, I am who I make myself

Because art is art; art is what you make of it

"Art without emotion is like chocolate cake without sugar"

And I am art.

 

You'll let yourself feel, my dearest me,

Paint your own eyes and you'll see

Paint your own lips and you'll speak

Paint your own heart and become art.

 

Sincerely, your dearest you.

 

 

(this is a poem written for my english project and i got the idea to try some transitions to tell a story through poetry. i could've done a short story, a monologue or spoken word poetry, but i decided free verse poetry would be good to convey my story. i'm actually really proud of this one as i wrote a super long poem in 3/4 of a period? like, what??? and it's pretty good to me. i have to make an accompanying video and record me saying the poem and it's due tuesday and ughhh why is high school so hectic? wish me luck, i have to draw some of the pictures. don't ask about the font, i felt like it. and autocorrect please colour is correct)

*snaps fingers (apparently that's what your supposed to do when it's good poetry)* Great job, it's good that you're proud of it ^.^

Beautiful, My friend.

*wheezes* DO MY EYES DECIEVE ME OR IS THAT BLAISE MY GOOD FRIEND MAYBE SISTER??? BC FAMILY TREES MAKE NO SENSE BLAISE

BLAISE

Happeh you should become a poet

My name is Happeh

I am a poet

I’m usually sorta nervous but I don’t show it

George Eacker can’t count to nine

I can write poems and I don’t really mind

ahhh burned out instrumental matches this sooo good it’s perfect ahhhhhh

'TIS ME!

 

My family trees never make sense.

wb blaise

I forgot to say that the first time

Aha! A fellow poet! Good one, I must say.

 

And BLAISEEEE 

 

WHERE YOU BEEN

 

ACKK

 

(Huggles)