I am about to rush across campus in the arctic tundra of Cedar Falls to take 2 back-to-back final exams, but it's Thursday so that means it's POEM TIME!!! Cue the party music.
This poem was written back in April. Full disclosure, the original poem that is scribbled in pencil in my book is a bit different than what I have published here. April Hannah thought it would be a good idea to use the words "psychopath" and "longs" in this poem... December Hannah disagrees. So without further ado...
Limited. 4/19/16
When you tell me stories
or about what's on your mind,
my heart pangs with jealousy.
Not because I don't consume
your every moment.
Au contraire, my dear.
I am jealous of all
the lives I haven't lived,
the memories I haven't made,
the thoughts I haven't had.
They all seem infinitely
more full than my own,
and my heart wants to
experience everything
and remember everything
and think everything.
I am so limited.
<3 <3
ReplyDeleteI like it! Of course, it's ironic that in lamenting the limitation that we can only live our own single life, your imagination can consider the full range of human experience -- so after all, you're actually unlimited :-)
ReplyDelete