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Best Poems Written by Nic Mit

Below are the all-time best Nic Mit poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Tell Me How Pretty I Am, Jeeves.

There's a good minion
Mindless and obedient
Great conversation

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Tea Betrayal

Hot tea in summer.
It warms me to discomfort.
Curse you, delicious.

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To Bare My Bones

Sometimes I visit pro-anoretic 
things

Out of curiosity
Out of concern
A desire to relate?
A strange urge to study the 
sick.

Am I one of them?

But every time
The more thinspiration
Self-motivation
And self-hatred that I see,

The hungrier I get
The more I feel my waist
The more I notice the softness 
of my flesh
The pleasant give of my arms
The rolling contrast of my 
proportions
The more I regard “squish” 
With fondness.

And when I feel bone 
Jut through a pillow of body
I regard it with distaste,
As I would a jagged corner
Jutting through a bedroom 
pillow,

This interruption of that which 
is 
Soft and warm and comforting. 
I care little about what look is 
yielded 
By something so thoroughly 
nice to feel, 
Whose presence exists to be 
touched. 

And to delve into boneculture,
A figure so opposite as to repel 
everything,
To repel food is to repel touch
To repel human contact
The basis of humanity
To become inhuman untainted 
by other humans,

Is repellant to me.

Though it is to be said 
That I am able to revel in being 
human,
To have power in my human 
needs
Without need to have power 
over them.

As such
I see my ribs, I feel sick
I wish to cover them
They interrupt my humanness,
To bare my skeleton is to walk 
dead.

I cover them
With muscle, with enough 
Adipose for a nice give,
Whatever I determine that to be,

Because I am alive
And crave contact
And am human
And those things are beautiful.

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Childhood Becomes Impressionism

Remember the games we used to play?
On rainy days under the gray?
In the trees and through the stars,
around the bends and up to Mars.
Over rainbows and in witches' den
oh, the things we could see then.

On paths that only we could take
we flew and galloped in grass we'd make.
With annoying companions in our hand
snuck into places hid'n in the land.
In a world none but we can unlock
full of magic we'd weave with talk, 
colors, solutions; the things we'd devise
predicaments and love seen through our eyes.

To see again what most cannot dream
is simple for those who once have seen.
And such as we've done can be woven again
much samely through words can beasts be slain,
and grottoes built up from the ground.
Here our golden grove IS found.
For what once was can be again
in the world of words and key and pen.

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Dairy Products Don'T Make Very Good Lovers

You caress me
Sweetly.
Your fingers cool
On my throat.

How I long
To escape into
Your smooth embrace.

You're like
A pearl.
Precious. 
Light and flawless.

My mind 
Is lingering
On your memory.

Your touch,
Soft and rich.
Just the two of us,
No one else in the world.

And it seems...
No one can love me 
the way you do.

I should 
Probably 
Stop drinking 
The half-and-half.

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Prelude To Dream

The memory of your arms
Caresses me
Pile on the blankets
Nestled deep
I'll imagine it's you.

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Realism

Do you notice?
In every unreality,
People read minds.

Every lie is transparent,
They call every bluff,
"You're not okay," they insist.
As if you didn't know.

But if you deign to test
The real world, 
of course

They are 
Completely
Oblivious
Always

Stop reading my mind.
You make me second-guess.
Are you real?

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Jacket

I stir the air.
Suddenly;
Senses alert.
You.

I smell you,
Like almost stale laundry,
In cool burst of air on my skin.
I close my eyes.

I touch the worn threads,
I feel the red,
Burying my face in it.
Engulf me.

Just one more breath,
You're fading,
Flickering in and out of existence,
Your scent is a memory now.

I cling to you fervently,
I didn't say you could leave!
I open my eyes to scold you.
It's just your jacket.