deepundergroundpoetry.com
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Almost 3:00 am, and I sit again, guts out -
in this moment,
the only way I know how.
No one is awake to listen
when my heart decides to shout.
When it suddenly decides
to look at the past
with different lenses.
It suddenly sees the subtleties.
Why did I ever forget?
The way the sun hits the water on the
campus lagoon,
the time I wrote a poem about the ducks
only to have them
chase me later.
The way the air conditioner always
makes the room
too cold
for our tropical country
bodies.
That I usually drink cherry coke
in between
classes.
The way I felt like a star
with every check mark,
correct answer,
praise, and jokes of
being genius.
The serenity of being in
my secluded spot at the library.
The way I felt when
I wore that dress,
when I stepped on stage,
to speak for my native language,
to compete for my classmates,
and bring them home a victory.
But before that...
The way it felt when I first met them.
The way it felt to have new friends,
and have them accept you.
To have them know your flaws and
secrets and learn to love you.
To know theirs and feel
your heart
open more and more
for the love
it is aching to give.
The way it felt to hug them all,
for you are the 'hug monster.'
The way it felt to have them
cheering you on.
The way it felt to have a
crush on a guy,
an innocent feeling.
The one that makes you squeal like
the teenage girl you are.
How it felt to have a boyfriend,
even for a brief moment.
The way he looks in your
eyes...
and flirts
awkwardly,
but nice.
The way it felt...
to have a life,
and to have a
semi-concrete idea of
what the future holds.
The way it felt to hope that
this will be
my last first time
and I
will graduate soon.
The way it felt when
it all came
crashing
down.
It's all different.
When it's not just this one big event,
one chunk of happening
in your life that
you remember. When
you look closer
and see the people,
see the little moments that
seemed insignificant before,
there is a different kind of poignancy;
there is a different kind of gratitude...
The times and the people are different.
But there is still love
in this little heart, though now
different.
There always will be...
in this moment,
the only way I know how.
No one is awake to listen
when my heart decides to shout.
When it suddenly decides
to look at the past
with different lenses.
It suddenly sees the subtleties.
Why did I ever forget?
The way the sun hits the water on the
campus lagoon,
the time I wrote a poem about the ducks
only to have them
chase me later.
The way the air conditioner always
makes the room
too cold
for our tropical country
bodies.
That I usually drink cherry coke
in between
classes.
The way I felt like a star
with every check mark,
correct answer,
praise, and jokes of
being genius.
The serenity of being in
my secluded spot at the library.
The way I felt when
I wore that dress,
when I stepped on stage,
to speak for my native language,
to compete for my classmates,
and bring them home a victory.
But before that...
The way it felt when I first met them.
The way it felt to have new friends,
and have them accept you.
To have them know your flaws and
secrets and learn to love you.
To know theirs and feel
your heart
open more and more
for the love
it is aching to give.
The way it felt to hug them all,
for you are the 'hug monster.'
The way it felt to have them
cheering you on.
The way it felt to have a
crush on a guy,
an innocent feeling.
The one that makes you squeal like
the teenage girl you are.
How it felt to have a boyfriend,
even for a brief moment.
The way he looks in your
eyes...
and flirts
awkwardly,
but nice.
The way it felt...
to have a life,
and to have a
semi-concrete idea of
what the future holds.
The way it felt to hope that
this will be
my last first time
and I
will graduate soon.
The way it felt when
it all came
crashing
down.
It's all different.
When it's not just this one big event,
one chunk of happening
in your life that
you remember. When
you look closer
and see the people,
see the little moments that
seemed insignificant before,
there is a different kind of poignancy;
there is a different kind of gratitude...
The times and the people are different.
But there is still love
in this little heart, though now
different.
There always will be...
Published 22nd Feb 2017
| Edited 19th Mar 2019
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
23rd Feb 2017 00:08am
I love this memoir to memory and the experience of feelings. It took me through a yearbook with you.
One thing, that final line is unnecessary. Ending on different is much more impactful.
One thing, that final line is unnecessary. Ending on different is much more impactful.
24th Feb 2017 10:58am
reflections of recent yesterdays;
& yes, C. is changed from what she was...
& yes, C. is changed from what she was...
26th Feb 2017 7:39pm
It's an honest and well written snapshot of life, makes me want to read more....
25th Jul 2017 2:45pm
Nice ink, here is what I got from it, or at least part of what I got. In life, there are major events and smaller ones, your words convey the smaller ones as if they are just as important as a major event. (Of course they are). I.E. Drinking your cherry coke between classes, the ducks chasing, the room temp too cold etc. Looking through with different lenses as you so well said it, brings a different perspective. One that is equally important if not more so than life's major events....Great poem.....
