Because Sad Girls Read Poetry

Have you ever seen the moon?

I'm beneath it tonight. bright stars and shivers.

I'm close to crying tonight, i want to.

Everything is too hard to feel. "i" "i" I can't handle it anymore. Remove me, distance me, far away thoughts of me. This wasn't ever me to begin with.

This can't be me anymore.

Just that dark haired "she" i feel in the distance. Only this jaded girl i'll write to you about.

I want you to understand that these aren't my feelings, these aren't my thoughts. they're hers.

there will be no more "me's" no more first person. No more hands on, no more interaction, no more stumbling bumbling nights.

This isn't me. this isn't me. This is denial. this is struggle. This is me, and this isn't anymore. And now i'm not making any sense,

(when have i ever?)

but do you understand? Do you get it? I'll reference Adrienne Rich and hope you've read it too. Hope you've read teh comments. Hope you'll know. Hope you'll still love me.

"Poised, trembling and unsatisfied, before
an unlocked door, that cage of cages,
tell us, you bird, you tragical machine--
is this fertillisante douleur? Pinned down
by love, for you the only natural action,
are you edged more keen
to prise the secrets of the vault? has Nature shown
her household books to you, daughter-in-law,
that her sons never saw?"
-AR