the poem

most day I’d rather be the poem

than the poet. I’d rather sit

silently than run. I thought I

wouldn’t use my logic with you

but even after seven days

you still critique the way I shine.

Some days I’m too brilliant,

other days too dull, some days

I throw my meals out and order in.

Most times you love me raw.

I have to run into you everywhere I go

I hate that. I love that.

even after seven years and three

breakups you still write about me.

I never thought you looked up

when you jogged by

but I was never one to think

that way. My tidy soul

is restless for your rubdowns.

My insecurities are explosive

it’s that Greek temper, it is.

I blame the gods, and the

ocean for sucking me into

their realm. The message was

you are both the poem

and the poet and I swear

that is the best thing

any stranger commented

about me without knowing me.

I may have heard it before

I may have even written down

perhaps I tweeted it. I don’t

remember much anymore.

It is just the days are mine now

and I own them. The nights

are not, they are yours.

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24 comments

  1. poemsinacoffer · March 17, 2017

    Beautiful, Chrissy…it was such a treat to read !

    Love
    Chhaya

    Liked by 2 people

    • Chrissy · March 18, 2017

      the treat is…your lovely comment, hey are you on twitter??? your beautiful face looks familiar to me, and usually my instinct is right

      Liked by 1 person

      • poemsinacoffer · March 18, 2017

        Lol ! No Chrissy….not yet on twitter (I am such an unsocial person you see 😜 ) ! But I am trying to push my introvert self to plunge into it. Will let you know once I am there.

        Liked by 2 people

      • Chrissy · March 18, 2017

        ok, I mistook you for someone else then, no worries. take the plunge, you can do it, please let me know…have a great day on your side of the world

        Liked by 1 person

      • poemsinacoffer · March 18, 2017

        Thanks Chrissy and a great day to u too ! πŸ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

      • Chrissy · March 18, 2017

        <333

        Like

  2. bethovermyer · March 18, 2017

    You have a way of wringing your soul out on paper. Beautiful. ~Beth

    Liked by 2 people

    • Chrissy · March 18, 2017

      it’s called meraki, in Greek, thank you and I appreciate that so much, I love your comment ❀ and thanks so much for visiting my blog, do you have a wordpress?

      Liked by 1 person

      • bethovermyer · March 18, 2017

        Cool! You learn something new every day πŸ˜€ You are quite welcome. Yes, I have a WordPress. The address is my name. Keep up the meraki!

        Liked by 2 people

      • Chrissy · March 18, 2017

        Thanks, will check it out -)

        Like

  3. vishalbheeroo · March 18, 2017

    Love the last lines. Terrific. Isn’t it intriguing what love makes us into. As usual, brilliant poetry.

    My mail id:
    vishal.v.bheeroo@gmail.com

    Liked by 2 people

  4. bowmanauthor · March 18, 2017

    So much life and realism. We’ve all felt this poignant bittersweet yearning of “what could have been”, but you expressed and captured out hearts.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Miss Book Thief · March 18, 2017

    Beautiful!

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Pingback: The Playlist Shuffle Tag! | Parawl Perwyl
  7. Jeni G.J · March 21, 2017

    You’re both poem and the poet😊😊 that’s the best thing I’d read recently.

    Liked by 1 person

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