Disjointed, dissection.
Like that which came before.
Dissection like that which,
came before disjointed.
Like that which disjointed,
dissection came before.
Like that which came before.
Dissection, disjointed.
I dreamt I saw you
And you talked to me
Even though I was hurt
And my eyes were full of tears in that dream
And I was leaving you because I was not ok
It felt like my turmoiled emotions were lightly caressed and embraced
Waking up I felt strangely satisfied
Something I haven't felt since I lost you
And that's just too many years ago
I knew we had a toxic association
But half of me can't figure out if you were toxic too
Even though I was broken in my little ways too
Making myself prey to those who were preditors
And I can't for the life of me figure out if you were just preying on me
If me and you meant nothing to you
When we meant the world to me
And maybe I know and I am a little too afraid to accept the truth
And maybe I am just totally incapable of accepting it
Because in this lifetime nobody does but you
And I can't be with anyone else
And that's a scary thought
And I want to break from this misery
Because nobody deserves to hurt me like that
And gets to live without losing me
Call me a coward
But even though the story of my life reads like a disjointed paragraph
I believe it was necessary to lose you
The street is full of cell-phone zombies;
I’m grateful that my parents didn’t murder me,
and for other small blessing;
content to be this moving figure
In a badly sketched landscape.
Liquor store servers
always make a point of saying ‘have a nice day,’
they are professionals,
they know you are not buying all that booze
for a backyard party with your many friends.
The bookstore is lit-up like a Christmas tree.
It does not sell the kind of books I want to read,
my life story is out of print anyway.
The stores end about here,
the road wanders off into a more aggressively
painted cityscape
where well-chewed over words
are buried in gawping mouths.
I wish I liked this grey, spit-stained strip mall,
It’s not a mean place, just trodden down by
the weight and blare of too much festive trampling.
My inner Grinch is showing up, my jolly smile
Is stitched to a masked and hooded mind.
Going home I write these words inside my head
as if they had just now been spoken.
My life? Incomplete, Constantly…
Wanting, waiting, competing.
Only needing to be accepted,
Loved…
My saving grace… Who?
God? Friends? Unexpected.
Not family…
Eternally disappointed!
Searching…
And finally found – I have,
But still lost myself.
Proved to be disjointed.
But, wait!
My saving graces –
Appreciate,
Expose… Show yourself…
How?
Be who you are.
Who am I?
Too many faces…
No I say I can’t give it to you
Find your own way
Count on me not for I’m weak you know
If you’re smart you’ll leave me today
I can’t be the one I present to you
As much as I say I am
For all of my statements of love I profess
I’m little more than a sham
Not that I meant or tried to be
I really wanted to show you my strength
Yet for all my attempts at honesty
I never went to any length
Love me not for I’m poison to you
And I can cause you lots of strife
No matter my intentions as good as they be
I struggle in this stage of life
Not a bad man I’ve not meant to hurt
Giving pain has never been my style
But I can’t ask you to be patient with me
For I may be disjointed for a while
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.