This poem came to me as I was sitting outside in the sun, enjoying the day. Which is odd because it's not a happy poem at all. But it's what came out and you can't deny that.
It is definitely a snapshot of how I've felt many times over the past, oh, 4 or 5 years. But it is not the norm so don't go calling some crisis counseling hotline on me!
As I've said before, poetry is very cathartic for me so my poems are more often than not the result of working through some difficult or complicated emotions. I can't remember, in fact, the last time I wrote a 'happy' poem. Maybe I should try that some time!
I imagine reading this off a little crumpled piece of paper, standing over the grave where I'm about to put my 'old life'....I am, of course, wearing a fabulous black dress and hat with a veil.
My Old Life:
We made a lot of mistakes, you and I.
I taught you how to hide;
You taught me how to lie.
Now that this goodbye has come,
I don't know how to cry.
But weren't there good times?
Didn't you teach me how to fly?
The last thing I want is to romanticize you.
(Or is it the first thing I want to do?)
The breakdown is beginning -
What is right? What are dreams? What's more, it seems,
I have no course for completing reciprocity.
But you and I are bound to die and I
Think I would gladly sigh and give it up to go with you below.
Better than living in the lie of this faded echo.
I write short stories. I own surprisingly few pairs of shorts. I sometimes short circuit.
"Alana" sounds like "A lotta" = A lotta shorts.
Take the title however you like.
- Lanii Be Good
- I'm Lanii. I try to Be Good. It doesn't always work. "Call Me Lanii" is sort of about that - my inner and outer triumphs (what?) and struggles. "Alana Shorts" is sort of about that, too: I draw way too much inspiration from the crazy and strange events that actually happen to me and end up writing very little 'fiction'. I usually have my tongue quite thoroughly stuck in my cheek.