Categories > Original > Poetry

Wilson Park

by BipolarUnicorn 2 Reviews

when words aren't enough/we always seem to give up

Category: Poetry - Rating: G - Genres:  - Characters:  - Published: 2014/04/10 - Updated: 2014/04/10 - 482 words

the words are pouring now
draining into the sewer
i still live on the street i have my entire life
and it still looks the same

my friends all move away
their house was resurrected
it doesn't look like the halls we use to run through anymore
i haven't changed since the day i was born

i'm still the same girl that's scared of her shadow
but doesn't let it show

we used to tell the story of our fears
and pretend to overcome them
threatened to runaway
and talked about the future

i never thought you would move away
even though your still just a town away
we don't talk anymore
but you've changed and I haven't
i suppose that's what is holding me back

the words are raining onto my head
as i race through the streets
i don't understand
that all the synonyms for the word beautiful
i've never heard one said to me
and believed it

it's a story of the day we met on a playground
and we ran through every street
we fell and cried
we stood and cheered
we created memories

just to lose them all

the curbs in front of my house
seem worn down
from all the time we ran across them
trying to keep our balance
and the clouds have lost their shape
the trees we used to climb have lost their adventure
the basement doesn't seem as scary anymore

and i used to be afraid of thunder
but i've grown to love it

i'm going to believe the first person who calls me 'beautiful'
and the first one to show they truly care
because I haven't felt that in my whole life

i could repair the wheels on my bike
i've made a fool of myself

lemonade stands seem cooler back than
all the elderly with older kids
that live on my street
we're usually the only ones that bought our lemonade

our makeshift sled hill was the small hill in your backyard

the whole neighborhood was our land to explore

the scary story kept on our toes
we thought my neighbors garage was haunted
the canopy of trees were our story

i've tasted blood
sucked it up and pretended to like it

i hung myself
with the camera i got for my birthday

and watched all of the colors of the Polaroids drain into the sewer and the bright and bold colors
dulled and faded into dirty water

and the synonyms
turned to antonyms
and beautiful turned to ugly

and the street was empty
of the three girls
that once were tight as a Boy Scouts knot
are now as loose as the leaves in fall

but the street lamps still came on at night
and the rain still poured
i stayed the same while everything changed around me
thunder still roared
but i pretended i wasn't scared anymore

-abby
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