Again, here goes my diary.
My thoughts spilled out for you to see.
I know my own story all by heart,
and still I can't put it in words.
Again, here goes my day, my life.
My feelings under the edge of your knife.
I know my own worries all by heart,
and still I can't tell if it hurts.
Again, here goes my verses you adore.
But never getting to the chorus or more...
I know myself like the back of my hand
and still I can't see myself in the world.
Again, here won't be the place for me.
Where I'm all spilled out for you to see.
I know my adventure all by heart,
and I don't know how to end it all
still I know how to start...
"Again, here won't be the place for me.
ReplyDeleteWhere I'm all spilled out for you to see."
Wonderful Poem Becca, especially Those two lines. I love the whole feeling of everything, the whole idea of everything. Its a very strong poem Bex, a very incredible poem.
Thank you so much for your praise, and even more so for pointing out which parts you like =)
ReplyDeletehahahaha i'll try to do that more
ReplyDeletegood poem, i get the feeling youre trying to pass, i like the lines:
ReplyDelete"still I can't tell if it hurts"
because ive been there.
and this one is just amazing:
"But never getting to the chorus or more"
Thank you amin. You are guessing right. Yes, that line as I'm sure you can tell is about feeling that you're stuck, wondering if this is all there will ever be. :)
ReplyDelete