Sun, 01/25/2015 - 15:44 -- Lizz191


Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 



Its a little rough but I have a .m4a file I couldnt upload of the final poem with music 



When I met you I was a little girl who watched movies with her mom and wore her bones as though they were armor.

I had a wardrobe of my grandfathers sweaters that I would wear because they made me feel loved and that was as close as I thought I could get to beautiful

When I was little and I asked my grandmother to braid my hair or hold my hand she would say "little girl, you love to be loved.  Don't let that get you into trouble."

When we met, you didn't love me but my god were you trouble.  You were a blur of motion so quick and so dodgy I could barely distinguish your eyes from your soul but I tried, and I told myself every day for 2 years that one day I would see them both clearly

On our first date, you left your wallet at home, but that home was broken and I had never experienced that so I thought I understood why you left it.  I don't remember much about that movie, but I do remember that you were the first boy to kiss me anywhere but on my lips and to this you will live on my cheek, and when you made me cry (and oh god did you make me cry) I would feel the years run over where you kissed me and I would remember why I loved you

You hated my taste in music, though you never really made an effort to listen to it, but I prefer sad songs and that doesn't appeal to everyone, so I thought I understood why you disliked it.  One year and three months after I met you, you got into a fight with your mom and I stayed with you until the morning.  That night, you screamed and thundered so hard you lost your voice and broke your hand, and quietly, when the storm had passed, you sobbed into my neck "I love you"

That was the first time, and the most beautiful sad song that I had ever heard.  Seven months later, you remembered you hated sad songs and took it back for three songs that were more your taste.  But when we were together, every day was a sunset and every night was a storm and every week seemed to be the eye of the hurricane that was your life your family needed me, you needed me, your teachers needed me, everyone was calling on me to save you.  I tried, I tried so hard I had to call back on you to keep me from drowning and you clutched onto your life raft and reminded me that you had it worse.  You were drowning in a bigger ocean and clearly I didn't understand it.  I never did see through your eyes clearly, only glimpses of hurt and anger on nights when the ceiling broke down on us and I molded myself into the rafters would your soul limp out, but when I offered band aids or crutches it reminded me instead that it was broken in ways I couldn't understand and retreated

I tried so hard to stop the world from turning so you would catch a break from the dizziness of your life but you kept a paddle behind your back and when things stayed to slow for too long it always seemed like something would push us off again.  

It's been three months since you told me you were sorry and three months since the last time I felt hopeful about anything but I've learned a lot about boys who move fast, boys I don't understand, boys who need me to inflate their life rafts, but carry needles with them too.  You cannot love a boy who will not listen to your sad songs when you need him too.  You cannot let someone's slightly larger ocean prevent you from realizing when you are drowning in your own.  If the boy who's house burned down, is the one who burned down his own house it might not actually be a good idea to help him rebuild, and you can't save someone who hates to be safe.  I loved you like a sad song.