Wednesday, March 28, 2012

The following is a poorly written poem...

There's been many draft posts sitting here, waiting for me to finish. But that hasn't happened. Instead, I have this random piece of nothingness that I typed up on my newly possessed iphone. Enjoy.

Those bittersweet moments come
back to me like I am the one to blame.
I smell your after the rain, wood cabin
scent on the body of a stranger walking
past me. You can't imagine how much I hate
to love the tingling it creates in my nostrils
and my brain. Remembering car rides
and adventures that cannot be revisited
should be outlawed. I never was coherently
in sync with the emotion that walked me.
And now it only stalks me when it shouldn't,
leaving guilt.


  1. Actually, you know what? I like it.
    Poetry doesn't have to be "perfect", to abide to rules.
    It's beauty in its essence.

  2. Thanks Emilia! I'm trying to overcome this rut in regards to my writing and I appreciate the kind words and encouragement!

  3. I agree. I think that the roughness and raw thought of the poem is simply great.

  4. You're welcome!
    I know that feeling. :)