It’s a bit less poetic
to say I checked my phone thrice
because I forget what the display said
whilst checking the time.
No unrequited love
expressed through hand written letters,
just three messages left on read
that I sent at midnight.
Hardly admiring the cold winter morning
when I slept in ’til noon.
I even missed the dew on the grass
and my nine am class
but I’m sure I’ll get over it soon.
Consumed by the darkness
because I left my curtains closed.
Having trouble picturing the path forwards,
my mind’s eye is busy watching anime.
The muddy ground beneath my feet
As I pace in virtual reality.
No bead of sweat tracing the outline of my cheeks
just sweaty palms on plastic controllers.
Writing words and twisting truths
to craft a familiar fantasy.
Something simple yet loud
with meaning buried just beneath the surface.
Chasing false dreams found in fiction,
jealousy nesting in my heart.
The nagging feeling of imperfection
as I wait for the poetry to start.
~ Andrew
Would you look at that? Two poems this year. That’s twice as many as last year! Bit of a weird one that I spent a long time being unsatisfied with, the final stanza must have gone through as many iterations as the rest of them combined.
Andy Writes Poems 