ren

“he told me i was like a poem, all kinds of feelings bundled into one
but i am a song without melody, a screeching noise you don't want to hear
i am like an ointment but for the wrong wound; i can't heal you but i would burn
i am like that paragraph you delete before sending an okay
the last drop of coffee still stuck on your discarded cup
i am the rubber band on your wrist, i am lost as soon as you set me down
and like the moon on a moonless night
i am there but not in your world, not in your eyes, not in your heart.
i could have been your comfort shoe, but i broke your feet and you discarded me
so now I'm just an occupied space on your shelf you don't use anymore
I'm like the stain on the mirror when you're taking pictures; an irritation that stays
like the push and shove on the subway station that doesn't make you stop and stare
but the one that keeps you moving, completely unaware
i'm the stranger on the street that you see yet you don't
your eyes pass through me, not in focus, not in the zone
i'm not the art kind of beautiful, i'm the beauty that lies there, ignored
my existence is poetry, unnoticed, unaware, invisible to your eyes
and you just keep moving and i stay, i stay, i stay right there”
― Ren Storm