yourwords

Poetry is something I don’t want to admit to doing. I have another blog, a secret blog, where I hide all my words of angst and cheese. Some people can pull off subtle, graceful, poetry. I can’t. The only reason I write poetry is to find clarity. Sanity’s not so bad either. Now I can only hope that no one finds that blog. Its embarrassing enough to admit that it exists. What’s nice about writing the poetry id that it makes me realize just how cheesy I can be when I’m emotional. Words are kind of my favortite thing, and figuring out where to put them is a hobby. I think, at least I hope, that I can do it well. So, when it comes around to making my piddly problems seem profound, I get into it. Then I get sick of what I’ve written down, and I feel better, leaving the emotions there.

Prompt:

Things can be said in the heat of the moment, they can even be meant genuinely. But everything changes. Can you expect yourself to mean it forever? Does this mean you should really watch what you say, incase it wont be true tomorrow? When something is true today but not later on, does that make it any less true today? Sometimes I wonder. Another thing to consider is that when you’ve heard someone say something that you were waiting to hear, can you really hold onto it even if it’s no longer true, but was at the time? It made me so happy to hear when it was said. It makes me happy to remember. You can’t live in memories though. That moment is over, so should the happiness that the moment produced also cease? Part of me thinks that this is a simple answer, or should be, but I don’t know. It’s a conundrum. And if it isn’t, I want you to write why it’s simple.