You are what you are

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now that the last laugh has been laughed
now that the trees don’t swing
the grass is but wet hair matted on the ground
you think you’re smart and maybe you are
you got away with it and you smile
as though there were no tomorrow
tomorrow comes, my love will you be ready for it?
or maybe you’ll dance just like yesterday
throw your arms in the air you feel so free, free
there’s no one else like you
the wind lifts your hair and your dress
your breasts wish to burst out and embrace the day
you’re the sweetest thing on earth nothing can change that
but when you look in the mirror who do you see?
do you like what you see? perhaps
you were reconciled to that long ago
you are what you are
you trip along tossing your skirt at time
and when time runs out you will disappear into the air with a little blip
it will all be as though you were never there
but I will remember and maybe sucker that Im
I will cry and all things will bend acknowledging the truth

3 thoughts on “You are what you are”

  1. wow, I really love your poem there. I felt your emotions and your words conveyed the message really well. I have a similar poem in response. I once felt like the girl you were describing.

    lust, I lusted in yesterday’s down filled pillows
    feel, I felt the light comfort of a partner that didn’t linger
    that didn’t dwell
    nor despair
    maybe it’s age or the precipitation
    I stopped relying in ways
    that earth parted days
    the rain saturates the rays in your eyes
    memory became a case
    mystery relentless but put to rest
    hand picked daisies
    as 26 years goes by
    seemingly wonderful
    caution, I carefully threaded mine filled land
    Loss, I lost and found faith under the same blue sky
    that didn’t dawn
    nor dusk
    maybe it’s meant to turn into dust
    as many blown apart
    I started to realize the open grip
    the storm yet to come already claimed its name
    yesterday’s flower became the evidence
    revelation to youth awaken
    hand picked daisies
    another 9640 days in counting
    seemingly wonderful
    seemingly unforgettable
    of tomorrow unpredictable

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