Daydreaming At The Birthday Party Of This Girl I Like

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Another poem (or more like a series of random poem fragments) I wrote out while thinking about the girl I like and daydreaming about a few other things ;). Nah, I kid, but I did write this in a rather hazy state. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and I'd love to hear from you all what you think about it!

Submitted: May 09, 2011

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Submitted: May 09, 2011



Daydreaming At The Birthday Party Of This Girl I Like

Blow out your candles baby you've come of age

It's time to rape lives and soil the stage

Shit in my hand I call it clovers

Here's blood to bleed and heart to swallow as you face your endeavors

The market screams

Down six points

You're out of dreams

Red scissors stashed in her jewelry box

Hidden in a drawer of pretty socks

All the other sisters just mock

No help her father is down at the dock

The dog died and we buried him in the lake

Until the seagulls came to take

The boats in the harbor that rust,

Alive with the fury of family distrust

And cousin Eddy's got a gun to his head

Locked in the bathroom where he fled

A shameful mother says he's dead

Eddy's not sure what's wrong in his head

His wife just pleads for him to come back to bed

Blow out your candles baby you've come to pass

It's time to forgive cruelty and slowly decay

The painter cannot refuse you now

Here's your death, by the reaper's hand, now paint me a portrait

I want to know what you looked like when you were young

Everybody is singing some cheerful hymns

But I sit weary in the corner

Even the doves cock grenades

And the dogs learn to shit in litter boxes

Our shadows feel like they're the ones being followed

Where's the feeling when it is subtracted by my humanity?

Is it even human to feel?

The truth is sinister, but so was genocide

Would you still not have me lie?

But I sit teary eyed in the corner

She walks over and asks what's wrong

I say I realized I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you

And that's horrific

It's not me, it's not you, it's the world

Blow out your candles and celebrate baby

For today you are genuinely happy

But come tomorrow and they ask us to defile—to destroy

We shall be prepared, all our tears diminished

Oh, I be such a foolish boy.

© Copyright 2020 High School Poet. All rights reserved.

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