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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


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Read books online » Poetry » I hear nothing. by Nicole M. (books you have to read TXT) 📖

Book online «I hear nothing. by Nicole M. (books you have to read TXT) 📖». Author Nicole M.



I’m in my bedroom. I’m sitting on my bed.

I can’t help but think about you, and how perfect we would be together.

I know you’re way too good for me.

I hear the doors slam, voices scream.

I know I have other worries.

They’re fighting again.

I want to go away.

I do not have a girl like figure.

I hate my laugh.

I’m thinking of how good it would feel to have friends.

I’m alone.

I have never hurt myself on purpose.

But I think about it. And I think about

What it would be like,

And what it would do to me.

They’re still fighting.

I want to leave.

He slaps her.

She shoves him away.

They won’t shut up,

Will not stop.

I don’t want to be here.

I creep out to the garage, unnoticed.

I can hear them fighting.

Even from all the way out here.

I’m going to leave.

There’s a bike.

It’s a motorcycle.

It’s mine.

It will be mine. 

I don’t know how to ride.

I’m going to leave.

They don’t have a clue.

Up and over, turn and lift.

It’s on.

It’s backing out. It’s running.

I shift the gears.

I’m barely tall enough to reach.

It’s loud. I pull the right handle down. I’m off.

In the mirror I see them come out of the house.

She collapses. He just stares.

I’m gone.

Going fast.

Not slowing down. I’m out on the road.

I’m all wobbly.

I can’t stop. I’m too scared to stop.

Red light. I can’t stop.

I can’t stop. Can’t stop.

I speed up. I go head-on into the middle of traffic.

I can’t stop.

I crash.

They’re not fighting right now. Not that I can hear.

Face up. I see blue. Turn I see red. I see gray. I see nothing.

I hear horns. I hear screams. Voices. Sirens.

I hear nothing.

Imprint

Publication Date: 08-16-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
This is dedicated to anyone who has ever been a victim to hearing argument after argument after fight after fight between their parents.

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