Now

by Chelsey   Aug 7, 2013


There use to be a time where I thought we were all born writers.
We all have feelings and things to say and it didn't matter how
it was portrayed, expression was beautiful. I chuckle, because
I use to think we were all born with a voice, whether quiet or loud,
rambunctious or petite, speaking was an ability we were all blessed with.

Now...now...

I am empty. Words puddle in the corner of my lips. Like spit that
can not be swallowed, these words can not be understood.
Sentences are foreign and feeling is jailed. Maybe I have too
much to say, too much to feel? Or maybe I have finally reached
the Plato where caring is meant for those who have nothing better
to do than wallow in someone else's pain.

I crumble like dropped food on the floor, meant to be stepped on,
meant to be that low because a high point is for those who have
money to solve their problems. I have a quarter tank of gas, a
broken family, and dreams that are too far fetched to reach.

Now...now...

I get it. We all don't have voices meant to be heard, we all don't have
the ability to express how we feel, because not all of us feel something.
I use to be a shaken bottle of soda that exploded when cracked open.
I was angry, sad, excited, encouraged, disappointed, happy, bitter, stubborn.
Any emotion ever felt, I was.

I wonder what they call this now?
Empty?
Released?

Whatever it is, I am.

3


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Latest Comments

  • 11 years ago

    by Amreen

    Wonderful write Chels:)

    I love the questioning you do here, too thought provoking. Also, I found the flow perfect which made me get into the message much clear of what you wanted to share. And the examples you share here are also perfect to the situation.

    Keep writing:)

  • 11 years ago

    by Ares

    I agree with Poet On The Piano; it did feel different from your other work. But! This poem somehow fits nicely in to your growing catalogue of amazing poetry.

    This might sound weird, but I really enjoyed the lenght of the poem. When going in to this prose-style, stream-of-consciousness-type poetry I read a lot of pieces that end too quickly, like the author really wants to keep it in style but can`t get to the finish line soon enough. When reading this a couple of times over I got a feeling of patience, like every verse, every line had its spesific place in the puzzle.

    The sense of not finding an outlet to release ones emotions and/or put them to good use is something that I can connect with personally and I really like the way you portrayed this. (spesifically by the use of the soda bottle)

    As artists we always have to deal with a certain sense of not belonging to anything, of lacking the right emotional labels to describe how we feel. Personally, I love the struggle, I love the bad days, because I makes me keep working and it makes for better art really.

    Wonderful poem and as always, you seriously rock!

  • 11 years ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    I can't even properly comment Chels... this felt different from your other writes, maybe more prose-like? But it still flowed and this whole poem was packed with not just one thought you are trying to get across but the doubts, the question of the future, the emotions of your past, and how now you are feeling empty, numb perhaps.

    One of my favorite parts of this was:
    "Sentences are foreign and feeling is jailed. Maybe I have too
    much to say, too much to feel?"

    - Reminded me of not knowing what we feel, just knowing we are like open sores, we're wounded, we feel pain but we don't know why or how to place it.

    Don't ever think you're alone on the journey, and I know it's hard to stay positive, don't do it because it's what others expect but when it's true for you and you are feeling uplifted. I don't think it's possible for us all the time to be ready, know what to say and do, have words ready and that "voice" like you expressed.... sometimes we are just there as your ending spoke of. So much power in this. I also like how real and raw it is, not that your other poems aren't but this had less metaphors and imagery, more openness which can be a struggle to write of what's worrying you now, this sadness, brokenness. We are not where we come from remember. Anyway, the ending spoke to me like you are just existing, trying to keep doing that and that's all you can do now. That's alright, don't think those moments where you are full of happiness and things you know and can name won't come.

    Reading again and again, this is a write that doesn't leave the reader, it stays with them. Every line was incredible and striking in its meaning, has a lot of depth that you may not know yet but are searching for, like maybe you have been released but that you will find a way forward all in time? Anyway, powerful powerful poem, just stunned after reading because though you express your emptiness, this poem leaves me feeling so much emotion. Nominated without a doubt! Take care <3