I talk to myself,
no more, no less,
than anybody else
I’m sure.
I apply makeup
in the morning
for the people
in my imagination.
In regards to my first
confession, this probably
makes less sense.
What I mean is,
without it I’m invisible
to all things in
fantasy and reality;
so, I wear mascara
in case I bump
into a daydream
or a colleague.
When I’m nervous
I enjoy the taste
and texture
of my own skin.
I chew my nails
and their messy,
unmade beds
to the quick.
I grip my shoulders,
wrists and arms
to remind myself
I am real;
an open book
with a pulse,
intimidated by hands
with the intention
to close me.
I linger too long
in peoples’ hallways,
on the stairs
and in the dark corners
of my memories,
and I travel through
happiness
like a bullet train
past rolling hills
and the setting sun.
I white lie
compulsively
to the people
I love, so as not
to hurt their feelings.
But, what does it say
about me, when
I am so willing
to hide all of me
from the ones
who committed long ago
to greeting me
as I am?
I write to myself
too. Poems, speeches
and stories.
Hardly any end up
on paper; neither
printed nor inked.
They exist and
they are gone.
Sweet bubblegum
popped reminders
that I’m not okay
and I am okay,
often, at the same time.
Kristiana Reed is an English teacher and a writer (in her free time and day dreams.) She is the author of the WordPress blog My Screaming Twenties and she writes about love, her struggle with mental health, survival and hope. She is currently in the middle of producing Between the Trees, her debut anthology, and writing her first novel.
Reblogged this on My Screaming Twenties.
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I really, really liked this poem! It seems so real! You are both introspective and a great observer of human frailties! Now, I must return to biting my own nails! 😉
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Thank you very much! I’m so pleased it resonated with you! ☺️
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This is a really good introspective poem that describes that loneliness that enshrouds a few of us. It eats us alive, but we don’t have any other alternative, but to thrive on it.
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Thank you for your comment and the reassurance that none of us are alone in feeling this way. Despite our loneliness teaching us we always are.
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You’re never alone. The people you meet face to face might never understand you, but there are others living similar realities around the world. Your poem made me realize the same thing. So thank you too.
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I’m glad, thank you ☺️
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Great poem Kristiana. Loneliness is weaved into our fabric of self. We look and project our loneliness onto the people we meet and the moment it resonates with anybody we crawl back into our shells.
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Thank you ☺️ I am glad it resonated with you too.
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Very well crafted Kristi.
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“I wear mascara
in case I bump
into a daydream
or a colleague.”
Oh my fu… writer’s envy! That’s brilliant!
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Thank you Henna!! 💛💛💛
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Thank God you talk to yourself so we can hear your shining mind
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💛💛💛
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💓
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