The Call.

It’s National Poetry Month! I thought I’d add to that by posting this one here. It’s still in the works, but I like where it’s headed and felt like sharing. 🙂

 

I told myself months ago, time after time
That this time was the last one
I will stop making rhymes
and leave rhythms for some
who have songs still to write.
“I will leave you in shadows,”
but I can’t yet tonight.

And they say that I’m fine,
then stop telling me news.
So I’m stuck here with stories
(I tell them how I choose)
So take this one to add to my journal of sins:
No more a good rumor
No less a good friend.

But for those who would hear me
The words are not mine.
I have knives left to hurt me,
I have danced on the line
where the truth and the lies are told
just so and because,
And the lies made me bold
but the truth makes me pause.

And from my point of view,
well, I guess I’m just fine.
After all, that was high school.
And I made it. Alive.

Here I start to take back what I left on blank pages,
Leave an anthem of mine against old fits and rages.
And the girl who spent years where she doubted her worth,
the girl who checked boxes and learned how to curse,
She’s heading out east, so they say, to great places.

Here’s to graduation, they say when they ask.
And where are you headed?
(And what did you lack?)
And what will you do in a world you don’t know?
(Is it cold, where you’re going? Will you still dream of snow?)

But the years stretch before me with promise untold,
though the ghosts of my past selves are boorish and bold
And the whispers have vanished, it’s all in my head.
So I’m left with these words (some that I haven’t said).

I am stronger, I think. I have learned how to go.
There are things I have found (some I don’t wish to know).
There are questions and answers to share over coffee,
Things left to be told in blue midnight, and softly
Myself and my worth are not tied to the lives
of the ones I have hurt by words I now revise.

It was nothing and everything tied up in one.
And it terrifies me, though it’s already done.
I refuse to be burned now (if they’re keeping track).
I’m leaving, you know. I don’t need to come back.

2 thoughts on “The Call.

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