Peter Rosen | + Follow Poet |
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Paper

Paper

When I sit down to write
I can’t help but feel as if
The words that clutter across my
Sad
Blank
Sheet of paper
Are not my own

I write my words
My thoughts
My suffering
But every time I reread my poetry
I can’t help but feel an overbearing sensation
Of plagiarism

My hamartia is is that when I write
I think about other people
And never about myself
I never actually allow myself to grow alone
But end up alone in the process of forcing people
Who avoid flourishment like an infection
To do exactly that 
Sometimes I wish I were more of a selfish person

What pity I have
For the friend that took the poison from my hands
Last time I chose to grow on my own

What people refuse to acknowledge 
Is that growth is not just living 
But dying as well
And realizing that death is not pretty
And therefore
Nor
Is growth

I have not met a single person
Who did not mistake growth and improvement
For synonyms

While improvement is the act of making a situation better
(Something I seem to be getting worse and worse at)
Growth is seeing things for the way they are
Such as seeing that true improvement is unobtainable
No matter how many people
You take down
Or lift up on the way to your unrealistic idea of happiness 

My next statement
Contradictory as it may seem
Is that there is a way to grow
And improve
At once
We come and go through it seemingly as we please 
And yet it is somehow still so out of our control
And to grow is to realize that
When we obtain this impossible harmony and balance 
It will be anything but poetic

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