My Doll’s Eyes

Here’s a new piece I’ve been working on the past few days. It’ll probably go through more edits, but here is what I have so far.

My doll has bright eyes

and my eyes are their reflection

as we innocently spend our days

playing out our jubilation.

*

My doll’s eyes are dimmer

and therefore mine comply;

we play a little less each day

and my breaths have learned to sigh.

*

My doll’s eyes grow dimmer still

and mine will do the same;

though We no longer have fun

We still play silly games.

*

My doll’s eyes are dust-ridden.

The grime has covered their shine

the brightness completely abandoned

the luster lost in time.

*

And my eyes are no different;

they’ve surrendered their childish light.

If I wipe the dust away,

will it work for me too?

*

Whose eyes reflect whose?

Advertisements

Things Fall Apart

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart, the center cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.”

-W. B. Yeats, “The Second Coming”

In English class we’ve been reading Things Fall Apart (italicizing because underlining isn’t working for me) by Chinua Achebe (brilliant book by the way, not just because it’s one of the first Afrocentric novels depicting the colonization of Africa), and it’s been almost relevant to my life at the moment. This poem is depressing to me; I don’t know if it’s just me or if everyone is depressed by it but I just feel it more, or I’m just crazy and everyone feels the way I do (that’s probably it). I’m intensely interested in this novel because I can relate to the sorrow of Okonkwo as everything in his life seems to fall apart around him.

Lately, that’s sort of what my life has been like. [insert sob story here]. I’ve been having an internal crisis about who I really am and trying to figure out what I want to do about soccer next year (see my previous posts) and school in general. There’s pressure of SATs,  procuring a summer job, school in general, and being an adult is apparently necessary now that I have a license. I was kind of sad when I got my license because as excited as I was, I knew I was ending my time as a little kid (I feel like I’ve been a little kid forever). There’s the pressure to figure out what I want to do with my life, as always.

I have family issues that I can’t even talk about to my friends because I don’t think it’s right for me to tell anyone. I’ve been getting random bursts of anger at my boyfriend for stupid things and have been shaky about my friendships, and lack thereof. And why does everything think it’s necessary to talk all the time or else you’re a weirdo? I think it’s crazy that people feel the need to talk all the time. It’s not like just because we’re not talking it has to be an awkward silence. It’s just silence, which is nice every now and then.  It’s all been piling up on me, and I often come home from school and just cry from so much stress[end sob story].

But I cannot forget Uchendu’s famous question for Okonkwo in Things Fall Apart: “You think you are the greatest sufferer in the world?” (Achebe 135). Yes, my troubles can be troubling (haha) and there is time to grieve for what I’m going through-just a little time. The thing is, I haven’t even been trying to get out of this depressed state of mine. But that’s what I need to do. And so, because the other one washed away, I’m going to draw another butterfly on my arm to remind myself that things fall apart, but life goes on.

Late Night Poetry: Depressed

Here are two poems I wrote late at night at time when I was feeling down and whatever. The first one comes from this summer, and was (unfortunately) fueled by a guy. The second comes from last night, when a friend pointed out that sometimes I run away from growing up and making decisions such as college. Now that I think about it, I did write a poem awhile ago about holding into the past a lot, and not looking to the present or future. Whether this is true or not (still trying to figure it all out, not running away this time though), that’s where the second poem came from.  Oh and go me for posting three days in a row! (For some reason the second poem isn’t cooperating, there is supposed to be a space between each question and the following stanza).

I’ll admit that I haven’t really edited the second one or tried to create a specific flow of words. Though I always like that challenge, this time I just wanted to write and leave it in its raw form in the hopes that some of the emotion carried in it would still be in the poem when others read it. This is something I have struggled with for a long time because I’m never sure if the poetry, blogs, or stories I write will hold as much meaning to others as it does to me. I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway, it’s what I think of my art that’s most important. As always, please give me feedback if you can!

Continue reading