Identities

October 13, 2010
By meamsusan SILVER, Walnut, California
meamsusan SILVER, Walnut, California
9 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Did you know I’m running from you? I’m panting, struggling, bleeding to get as far away as I can, and I feel frightened at the brush of your finger tips. They pull at wisps of my hair sometimes, and I feel that I am so sly, being able to escape from your grasp.

I exasperate you don’t I?

What was your name again?

It’s me isn’t it?

When I call this at you, I don’t bother waiting for a reply, I just keep on running, running,

running

into disasters.

Do you know I chase you? I cry, I scream for you until my voice is hoarse. It’s exasperating, having you escape from the tips of my fingers. Sometimes, it’s satisfying to see you suffer from not listening to my calls. But I hurt for you.

I frighten you don’t I?

You call for my name.

But you don’t bother waiting for a reply, you keep running, running, running

causing both of us to fall into ruin.

What is my name?

My name is you.

I am you.


The author's comments:
This poem came from my conflicting emotions. I feel like I'm still searching for my sense of identity.

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 1 comment.


on Oct. 28 2010 at 2:09 am
wefellinLAVA PLATINUM, Copper Cliff, Other
21 articles 0 photos 25 comments

Favorite Quote:
'you touched my heart, through it's shell'

I lovelovelove this concept.  Treating your idenity as though it is a being seperate from yourself.  Couldn't have written it better.


SciArc

MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!