Impossible Things

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I want this so desperately, like something alive under my skin.

Submitted: December 02, 2011

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Submitted: December 02, 2011

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I want this so desperately

like something alive underneath my skin-

never settling, never sleeping,

morphing into something new with each breath I take,

changing into everything except the shape of my hands.

 

And I reach and I reach and I reach

but I never feel anything,

never find anything no matter how hard I look.

Because how do you find what you’ve never seen?

How do you search for what you’ve never known?

How do you recognize it staring back at you?

 

They say, “Love can move mountains,”

But who decided they needed to be moved?

I could do the impossible-

build myself into a new animal for you,

one capable of love and of being loved

without fear, without hesitation

without desperation.

But all that will do is make yet another face in the mirror

I don’t recognize, and

I’m not sure what I would do if

you liked that face better.

A false face, sure.

But once created, even a false face

becomes true enough.


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