UM Writers' Community

UM Writers' Community

I don't think this is good. I just needed to be honest.

Rain on Us

I hate it when you open the door and look at me
like I shouldn’t be in my own house
and take my best friend away.

You don’t hate me.
I don’t hate you.
But I hate feeling like a stranger in my own house
because when you’re here, I feel like I
don’t want to be, not really.

Of course I don’t hate that she loves you,
or that you love her (I know
you do) but it is
cruel
that love is so exclusive. That in the act of loving
you
she loves me less. Less than if we were in
our own house together
without you, loving each other.

But now she's gone away.

I sit here,
you sit there,
sprouting clouds from the corners
of our mouths and wishing
the other weren’t here.

She rains on us both.

A poem for your consideration

So here's something I came up with a few days ago, and have been tweaking it since then. I'm not sure the stanzas connect very well to each other, or even that I completely understand it, but I thought I'd throw it up here for your consideration. Oh, and it doesn't have a title (which, I have been convinced, is okay).

Untitled

In Ann Arbor, the snow falls soft and silent,
leaving gentle splatters on my coat,
not like the winter when you and I
went for a walk around your neighborhood,
and the snow slipped from the sky all at once,
burying me in its heavy cold.

Still, I thought it was all so beautiful,
even after I learned
how absurd it is to be from a town
named Bloomfield Hills
which has no fields and no hills, only
Hummers leveling the bumps on the shiny roads.

Today, sitting in a crowded computer lab
with a cup of lukewarm cafeteria coffee
I’m plucking words from the keyboard,
when I think I hear your laugh:
starting low, boiling over,
and flattening the silence.

Forgive Me.

I tell you the truth:
oversimplification
will be my ending.