Misguided | #poetrycommunity

I spent three hours last night

searching for a story I read seven years ago

it’s lost to the archives of the internet by now

and I can’t remember the name of it

but I kept searching

despite the truth being right in front of me.

I spent hours searching for something

for the fleeting feeling of nostalgia

or something familiar

And I spent this time searching,

ignoring the weight in my chest

because it’s easier to search

for something physical

than admit I’ve lost you.

We do silly things when we’re hurting

and we deny until we can’t anymore

but I don’t want to stop denying

that you’re gone for good

because I spent all this time

thinking it’d be forever

I’m not ready to admit

I may have been

misguided.

..

-Ren Marie-

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I’ll Wish I Slept

You couldn’t give me the time of day,

but I wear a watch anyway.

You weren’t there when I needed you,

but truth be told I never needed you.

I needed you in the way I need coffee before bed.

You could be fun for a night,

but I’ll wish I slept instead.

---

Note: I found this poem I had written a while ago in an old notebook.

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Her, alone

She drove until she reached the forest, camped there for the night, and drove on to the next. It had been a week-long journey with no defined end. Teary-eyed and broken-hearted, she made the spontaneous decision to travel by car until she couldn’t remember his name. Or at least until it didn’t hurt to think about his bright blue eyes and his contagious smile.

She inhaled sharply as she merged into the right lane on the vast and ever lonely stretch of highway. She had just passed the only car she’d seen in the last five hours and the weight of her reality had been pulling her deeper and deeper into a pit of sadness, like a ton of bricks on her barely beating heart.

When she decided on this trip, she didn’t realize how depressing it would be. Traveling alone is clearly lonely, but she realized this just too late. It should have been obvious beforehand. Any sane person would’ve known traveling alone is as lonely as it gets. But she wasn’t sane. She was a grand mess- hair askew, nail polish chipping, the same shirt she’d been wearing since he told her he found someone new. She couldn’t bring herself to buy new clothes.

Work called her yesterday when she didn’t show up for her shift. She had a long talk with her boss about love and life and to make sure to keep them up to date on when she’s coming back. She was fortunate enough to have a job she could leave and come back to as she pleased. She was also fortunate enough to have the money saved up to go on an indefinite endeavor across the country.

None of that mattered, though, because the whole time she was miserable. She wanted to go home, but couldn’t bring herself to head that way. A part of her wanted to live out here. She was in the forests of Washington, thousands of miles from home. All she had were the clothes on her back and her water bottle, but the thought of stopping at home to collect her things- where her now-ex-boyfriend also lives- made her nauseous. She thought a lot about just how hard it would be to transfer to the Seattle brand, get an apartment, new clothes, furniture.

She found herself surveying houses in the suburbs. This one’s too small, that one’s got no driveway, this one would be nice. Oh, and an open house. It won’t hurt to go in. I can say I’m thinking of moving out here from Massachusetts. It’s true and doesn’t invite too many questions I can’t answer. Oh, and it’s cheap, too. I could afford this if I transferred to the Seattle branch. I should call my boss….