I have spent my days rendering different ways to understand
the universe only to realize that it's impossible to understand the universe. I
have run around collecting words and phrases only to realize that words and phrases
don't fit in my pockets. So I looked at those letters on the pages and I tried
to figure out a new way to understand the stars. And as soon as I thought I
finally had those little sparkles figured out, I looked outside to realize that
there were no stars to be seen, that they had been hidden by something else.
Something that appeared as cotton ready to wipe drops of blood from a wound. It
was at that moment that I realized the fluffy white cotton candy in the sky
that we used to see pictures of starfish and seahorses was beginning to pour
down ocean water onto my front porch. I began to realize that even though my
windshield wipers were going as fast as they possibly could, I still couldn't
see in front of me because the heat of our breath mixed with the cold air from
outside had created a foggy film that coated the windshield. I reached forward
to wipe a portal of vision so that I might be able to understand the markings
on the open road, but instead of wiping away the fog, I painted a picture. I painted
a picture with the words and phrases that I use to explain the world. And even
though I still don't understand those words and phrases, I keep painting in
hopes that someday I will. I keep painting in hopes that someday my words and
phrases will find their way to your words and phrases and that someday we will
realize that we were both missing half the letters needed to create the story.
Someday I will realize that my capital letter at the beginning of my sentence
is missing the period at the end of yours. I keep painting in hopes that when I
find you I will finally be able to understand my own writing. That someday I
will realize that it's not impossible to understand the universe. But until
then I will keep painting, because if I'm not covered head to toe with the
leftover paint from my unfinished project, then you won't be able to know whose
project you are supposed to finish. Because even though I don't know who you
are, the color of your eyes, or the things your hands have been through, I know
that I need your hands to finish my project. I need you to fill in the words in
the empty spaces that I didn't know what to do with. Without you I can only
understand half of the universe, which really isn't understanding at all. To
receive half credit on a school exam is to receive a giant F. I need you to
help me receive the A I've been looking for, because without you I will only be
the small quiet girl in the back of the class room waiting for you to turn
around and notice me. I don't notice you because I'm busy scribbling words onto
lined pages in a spiral notebook. Words and phrases that are meant to explain
the universe. What I don't realize is that you sit two seats away with a
similar notebook in hand that contains half the words I need. Someday the seating
chart will change and we will be moved together so that we can peak over at each
other’s writings and discover the universe, but until then, I'll keep writing.
feel my sunlight
p.s. This is my attempt at spoken word poetry on a blog with no "spoken word". It's basically an amateur attempt at poetry. I'm unfamiliar with this kind of writing but it just kinda happened. And since words need a place to be read I figured that there was no better place to plaster my ranting thoughts than the place that I always plaster my ranting thoughts. So even though both you and I are unfamiliar with what ever the heck that was I'm going to post it anyways. So here's to me expanding my horizons as a writer, and here's to you expanding your horizons as a reader.
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