its not really like it's that different of a situation
sure the circumstances are different.
turn your eye away from that body
it twists into shapes i cannot understand
and i cant reinvent the shape with my own
it isnt fair to a tortured soul such as my own
i'm convinced i will never be enough
convinced myself that long ago
and it was with his words that confirmed that
do the pains in my iris's show?
the sun is bright rays of
the moon nears as lovely with
flow through me like the notes of that song flows swiftly through the pianos keys
i want to be able to flow with just as much ease.
you are not to be polouted, we are not to be polouted with strange movement.
i will dance in a movement pure just as predicted before.
i long to be lovely such as you.
perhaps it is why i created in my own mind perfection of you.
put you on that pedistool for me to look up to.
and when you fell off, it was all i could do not to run.
i let you know i accept you because you are human
but that was not where my mind was
you're on a completely seperate plain than I..
and i so desperately wish i could fly as high as you
above the trees i look so longingly up at
you are above that
and i don't like that.
because i can't explain it for you to understand
you know you are just a man
but i know you know the way they view you.
as a god.
they all see you as nothing short of a god.
and i know this to be true
because for so long that was how i viewed you.
but now i see so plainly
perhaps it is jealousy
and that i admit angers me profusely
because i don't want to be less than you
not even in my own eyes.
they watch him with eyes so longing.
every single one of them wanting
wishing they could pass by him
get to touch his sleeve.
but he comes home with me.
but i feel he likes them longing.
i feel he can't help but feel the high
that comes along with them wanting him to walk by
i was never good enough anyway.
Simone Graves's Other Poems
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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