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Lake De Poem
stay inside your house
that would be my life.
let someone else become a lawyer
a teacher a doctor an artist a writer a
i am under a blanket.
i am inside a television.
i hide in your sugar and popcorn.
from the outside, we are simple.
laughter is not hard.
no one suspects a thing.
yet within, it is cool and quiet and
hollow.
utterly
empty.
the occasional drifting wandering thought
waves hello or
drags at your flesh.
no one will bother you.
you will sink, unperturbed
to the trenches, the
(dregs).
and if you are lucky,
the fish will come to knock on you
and listen.
it is dark down here.
i don’t mind.
i wish you did.
i wish you knew.
my ears pressure pop
and my heart adrenalin pumps
and my skin shakes, ice cold hot
and i can’t speak, but, oh well.
my pride will carry me.
i have heard
of lantern fish in the deep
and sharks that don’t bite.
and maybe
you don’t have gills after all.
maybe,
you’ll think,
maybe, i’ll go to college.
Copyright © Lake De | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Lake De Poem
to listen to anyone,
if you would hear that person,
you must enter their heart.
to stare
a living breathing person
in the face, and say
“you can talk to
me,”
is not enough;
will never be
enough.
you don’t have to look through their eyes.
you don’t have
to wear their shoes.
you will sit, palms settled on your knees,
and you will crawl
inside their chest and the very marrow
of their bones.
and you will hear their heart beat for you,
their blood curl around your pulsing form.
and you will not see
any of this.
it is a fierce and beautiful thing
when years later, their teeth
glimmer white with tears
and you still reside
in their skeleton,
their nervous system wrapped around your wrists, but
they have found their way back, and
they made a home in their veins
for themself, too.
Copyright © Lake De | Year Posted 2016
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