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Porcelain Snow
I want to be the one that drives off
with a full heart. I want to be the one
that looks like a movie. Read me like
your favourite book. Highlight my best
parts and memorize my soul
as porcelain snow falls on my skin
and I stick out my tongue
like a five year old child.
You brushed off the snow
from the tips of my hair,
my heart turns into a photograph
my guts feel splattered
inverted nerves
that compelled me to give away
secrets.
No influence but yours
can ever make me do the things
you asked for. It felt like that time
you brought me to cafe Henri
and boasted about your hockey medals
soccer wins
and never let me talk. I nodded my head
thinking about white tiles
and candle scents
nothing to do with your high school achievements
but everything to do with
my defeat. Different shapes
need to never merge
in working-class neighbourhoods
listen up and I will tell you
about my parent’s struggle
and having no furniture.
Blah blah blah about your awards
I still take out my vinyl
to remember my secrets.
You talk too much
about yours.
Comments:
8
So, SO good!
Thank you x
Every time I read you I feel like I’m sitting next to your table at that restaurant..and I can’t take my eyes off your conversation….the only difference here is I don’t have to be embarrassed for eavesdropping on your heart. ❤
awww, pull up a chair, Eric, let’s have a drink! lol
xo
Some people seem to be so “happy” with themselves …. but then again not, because they need the approval of others for their “awards” in order to be happy… sad! Great poem, made me smile 😀
thanks Erika, exactly my point! xo