Published May 7, 2005
January.
We were sitting in opposite ends of a big blue room
With just our shadows for company
And there were trees and flowers painted on the walls,
And a big yellow light hanging on the ceiling
That made everything seem to glow.
You walked over to me,
A one minute walk that was supposed to represent miles,
And slipped a paper crane into my hand.
It was made of pink wrinkled paper
Sprinkled with sandalwood dust.
1 fold, 2 fold, 3 fold, 4.
Inside 5 fold, 6 fold, 7 fold, 8
Were a thousand memories we shared together
And a match. You told me to burn them, forget them,
Because I didn't need them anymore.
Hesitantly, I turned my back,
Slipping the pink paper into my pocket
And hoping you wouldn't notice.
I extracted an old gas station receipt (which, in itself,
Was a memory of you)and lit it aflame,
Hoping you would be easily deceived.
If you noticed, you didn't say anything,
And just squeezed my hand with a little smile
And layed a tiny kiss on my third eye.
Then the trees started to melt into the walls,
And the walls started to turn black.
And the yellow light above us exploded,
Leaving us in darkness, until a million tiny
Glow-in-the-dark blobs of paint appeared on the black walls
And casted a dull light on my face.
I couldn't see you anymore, so I extracted a flashlight from somewhere
And blinked a thousand times, almost like spinning or drowning or passing out.
When I stopped, the walls were purple
And I was lying on my back.
And you were gone.
It wouldn't be the same if I didn't end this on a dramatic note,
So why not just end here by saying:
Hey, you really are just an idea!
Because like all my other brilliant ideas,
When I blink you disappear.
How very strange.
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140,138 Literary Works • 673,032 Reviews
Ha, I really liked the last line. Chanson said it was "too long". I think she was just too lazy to read it. Anyways good job. Keep on writing in the free world.
Hahahaha, thanks for the advice. I'll look into all that next time I edit this. I'm not huge on the ending myself either, really. When I first wrote this poem and posted it on deviantART it was directed towards someone, and I guess I wanted them to get the message. It is pretty unnecessary though, I suppose. Thanks again!
I like it too. However, there is this one word that annoyed me, "extracted." Is it necessary? Can you think of a better word?
Also, the last couple of lines were very weird. Maybe it would be more powerful if you ended with, instead of this:
this:
I'm not sure. The word "Hey" really seems out of place though. *shrugs*
Hahaha, thanks guys
easy to read, my eyes just kind of skimmed along it. it was pretty and enjoyable, not particularly striking although i couldn't quite put my finger on why that was. perhaps because the poem is too vague or too long or both. anyway, if anything is vague it's this comment so sorry.
but yeah, i quite liked it.
I think I'm going to have to go along with what emotion less said. A good read. I liked what it was about, and most of the line breaks didn't feel arbitrary to me, which I think is all too rare in non-rhyming poetry.
Thanks
I really liked this poem. It's so uniquely written. There were some really long lines that were randomly there, so maybe you could break it up. That's about all I can say though.