poem 3 (13 collected lines), poetry workshop.

[wellownedbkup]

9/9/08

Honesty, in Hindsight

I do not know who you are.
I have never understood the language of love.
From my window across the street, I watch her lovers come and go.
Her embarrassed teenage daughter slumps
before stealing in through bedroom windows.
It was my first real job and I was scared in it.

I made you stare through the arch of a window.
Who else has that going for them?
Frosted eye shadow, bangs like birds' nests.
I had grown tired of hanging around
standing in your winter coat, but I don't know you.
You think it's a secret, but it never was.

Not enough light to read your face by.
In a quiet corner with downcast eyes.
Lucky me, I have become hardened, like a doll fashioned from scars.



each line comes from a separate poem. if you'd like to know which, there will be a primer added later on.