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December 7, 2016 | Poetry

2 Poems

Daria Rae

2 Poems photo

Untitled

I used to want to give up
the second I realized I wouldn't be the best.
My father's face would sag
with disappointment
from outside the court
when I threw my tennis racket
after I lost the first game of a tennis match.
Because he knew
I couldn't face the idea of overcoming the deficit. Being
the worst for four points
Is a gross weakness.

By now you tell me how I feel.
You tell me
what I will do and how I will act.
You do the creating
for me,
the discrediting.
So I guess that makes it easier
for me,
Decisions are being made
for me.

I call and call-
Is it too close?
is not a question.

I would kill for time to align.
For once.
For history to stop obscuring.
When do you stop making decisions
on things that have not happened.

I get so worked up
when the power switches,
when I hear people say:
When you know, you just know,
When I think about how
I would rather someone stop loving me
than not.

I was in love.
And now I want to bite my nails raw.

I long for a time when
there could be a last time
you saw someone.
Different directions could be taken.

You not answering
me
in any form
is like a
slow death that
I am reminded of
every time I feel the wind
of a limb pass me.

But. You are a man,
and things are more decided for you.
Isn't that a weakness?

For once I won't be there.

 

 

August 20th, 2014

Sitting on West Houston
before midnight
I explained myself,
some things about bad communication skills
because things are
Much messier in New York, New York
Than up north.


In August it started to really
bother me
that I could never tell
who were dog walkers
or who were
dog owners.

 

image: Carabella Sands


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