I am not really sure what kind of poem this is so I put it in other poetry.
Corners
"Why are you standing in the corner?"
Cause that's all I am, I want to answer.
Just a corner filled with darkness,
sadness.
I am merely a corner of the world.
There is so much more out there,
so then why do you go out of your way to talk to me?
People lean against me in relief
to hide and not be seen, to escape from the center,
and the walls that barricade them in this shallow existence.
Yet as sturdy as the walls are, they get knocked down the most
because the centers want to see more than the walls allow.
Even though corners are made when two walls intersect
and is the only thing that keeps a congested room together,
people like corners because of the cracks in the firm bricks that long for a real life too.
When you look through the crevices in a corner's stone
you see everything you thought was impossible.
A corner hides me in it's layers like my jacket
so nobody can see the real me.
But corners see more than you would guess,
despite being shrouded in darkness
corners can see just fine
and a little better than walls or centers.
Corners are exposed to all perspectives.
being a corner makes everything clear,
like a pair of glasses.
I see so many people pass by
and stop to chat
then never see them again,
wondering what became of their life.
Why had they even stopped
to talk to this lonely, dark corner?
The day I am not a corner
and I become a center of this world
or a wall, that blocks the dreamers from chasing freedom,
have me put on my jacket and give me my glasses.
Tell me to use a telescope so I can see my heart
because I am sure I buried it in lies I fabricated myself
and make me open up my eyes to the real world.
The world where all you do is watch
in anticipation and hope,
wondering what it is like
not hiding in a corner.
To become apart of those carefree centers
that is what everybody longs for.
But then I would have to leave my corner,
the corner where I hide.
And I don't think I'd abandon it,
I would have to leave too much behind.
The only reason I would I'd ever leave my corner is
so that I could truly hide.
But I don't tell you any of this.
I want to cry on your shoulder
and recount every hurt,
but I instead politely smile and say,
"The sunlight bothers me,"
while forcing another wall between us
and letting another fracture in my exterior
go unnoticed while it bleeds,
almost drowning me to death.
Worst of all,
I know I just let you go
to continue on with your life
with no memory of that dark corner
with the damaged soul...
