I can feel the perplexity
twisting on my face
pulling my eyebrows together.
Also
my nose is doing that obnoxious
crinkling thing
that it does
without asking.
You did this, you know...
made my face twist
You wrote me saying I was "cute."
Such a passive complement...
but it won't shut up.
My "blue eyes are enchanting."
Just like my nose, you didn't ask my permission.
You just said it.
No protection...no thought of it.
Just putting the words in my head.
They're hanging over my head.
I don't have a box to put
these crazy clauses into.
I've never needed one quite this shape
and I'm desperately out of practice
in making new boxes...
But I do have one that is always big enough -
mistrust -
my mental waste paper basket.
Some time has gone by since then and the phrase
still refuses to settle in the basket.
I can't sleep for the racket.
I suppose I could bring it out again
clip it into my hair
perhaps try it on while I'm alone
maybe look to see if it's still pretty
even under the weight of all your words
that fill my brimming waste paper basket...
the ones that proved they belong there.
I can't manage to toss them though.
They just sit there waiting
to be taken out
and pinned back up on the wall.
shared this in a building open mic entitled "words"
twisting on my face
pulling my eyebrows together.
Also
my nose is doing that obnoxious
crinkling thing
that it does
without asking.
You did this, you know...
made my face twist
You wrote me saying I was "cute."
Such a passive complement...
but it won't shut up.
My "blue eyes are enchanting."
Just like my nose, you didn't ask my permission.
You just said it.
No protection...no thought of it.
Just putting the words in my head.
They're hanging over my head.
I don't have a box to put
these crazy clauses into.
I've never needed one quite this shape
and I'm desperately out of practice
in making new boxes...
But I do have one that is always big enough -
mistrust -
my mental waste paper basket.
Some time has gone by since then and the phrase
still refuses to settle in the basket.
I can't sleep for the racket.
I suppose I could bring it out again
clip it into my hair
perhaps try it on while I'm alone
maybe look to see if it's still pretty
even under the weight of all your words
that fill my brimming waste paper basket...
the ones that proved they belong there.
I can't manage to toss them though.
They just sit there waiting
to be taken out
and pinned back up on the wall.
shared this in a building open mic entitled "words"
2 comments :
you participated in an open mic? Katie, that's awesome. :D wonderful poem, too.....it's always special to see your poetry now in comparison to your past work. it's still definitely you, but you've come a long way. <3
I have participated in a couple during my time here. I don't remember which other poems I read, but this was the latest. Glad you like it!
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