29/01/2016: The Problem

(After a night of intense stress, my boyfriend got his job! Yay! So I’m celebrating with a short freeform poem about love, emotion and poetry.)

The problem is

That at this moment


With you

I am far too full of

Mere emotions

To express them

In simple words.


‘I love you’

Does no justice

To the joy

And intensity

That spills out of me

When I see you smile,

Your eyes crinkling like fans,

Your mouth curling

Like the sunrise.


There are no oceans

Big enough

For the swells of sadness

That rise within me

When I think of my mother’s arms,

Her hazel eyes,

The smell of her hugs.


There are no typhoons

That can contain

The rages I have felt,

The storms that have wrecked havoc

On my soul,

The thunder and lightning I have screamed

At my hated reflection –

“How dare you be less than perfect”

(But, of course, that is not what I mean.)


There is not enough sunshine in the universe,

No temple scene calm enough,

For the tranquility that falls after,

When the sobs have left

And the rage is empty.


I suppose, when all is said and done,

This is what it means to be a poet.


That, when I run out of words to tell you what I feel,

I must use my words, instead, to paint you a picture of those feelings,

That silence,

That rage,

That sadness,

That joy,

That even now destroy me.


I suppose,

(when all is said and done)

(and it is never said and done)

That, is what it means,

At the end of the day,

To be me.


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