I haven’t written in awhile. Not like on here, but..just writing. I like to do it. I think every time I see/read/hear someone else’s stuff, I get a little less confident about my own. But I know I can. At times. I’m thinking about..”playing” around with something Ace text me this morning. When I read it, the first thing I thought was “this sounds like the beginning of a poem”. We’ll see. Here it goes:
I hate the mornings, but they look so beautiful.
Taunting me with the sunrise and the birds as they sing.
I hate the food, but it tastes so good.
Every chew and swallow is another thing I’ll regret.
I hate myself, but I can’t ever show it.
Who knows what will happen if anyone finds out.
I hate loving so much, but I can’t help who I am.
Every risk I take is another chance for my heart to be broken.
I hate the night, but it’s there that I thrive.
Thrive being relative, of course.
I hate that I hate, but…what else can I do?
*NOTE: The idea is that there are many speakers in the poem. Each “I” is a differnt person/idea/feeling.