Shooting Star

The first poem I wrote in college. 

“Shooting Star” 9-9-99

You want to go where no one knows you, so you can be anyone, someone amazing.
To reinvent yourself as though you’d never lived, never loved, and never lied.
-But someone once told you, “You can’t hide who you are, no matter how hard you try.”

Soon you’ll pack your bags and move away, to another time in some other place.
When you get there, you’ll soon discover that the person you wanted to be already exists.
-Because someone once told you, “You can’t hide who you are, no matter how hard you try.”

You push people away because you’re afraid, and grasp with both hands what they take away.
Fearing life, death, love, change, friendship, sex, and loneliness most of all.
-But someone once told you, “You can’t hide who you are, no matter how hard you try.”

Someday you’ll see a shooting star, read the perfect book, or meet the most fascinating person.
And when you least expect it, the people you hate will teach you about acceptance.
-Because someone once told you, “You can’t hide who you are, no matter how hard you try.”

Your memories will change and fade as life passes, and only the simple things will remain.
By that time you’ll know who you were and cherish who you became.
-Maybe you’ll see another shooting star, and remember reading, “You can’t hide who you are, no matter how hard you try.”

Fear

My poetry took a darker twist when I was 17. Hint: It’s not actually about fear. Can you guess what the “it” is?

“Fear” 3-17-99

Something stalks and terrorizes me using all its fright,
making it hard to sleep at night.

I wonder if it’s been there all along,
not asking, but making me sing its song?

“What do you want?” I ponder.
“Oh nothing,” it answers, “I’m only here to wander.”

What if it slays me in my sleep,
taking away all of the things that are mine to keep?

I prepare with all my might to scream,
but it calms me as if comforting a child’s bad dream.

This thing has already killed my best friend,
and now things can never be the same again.

It teases me from inside my mind,
always present but never giving a sign.

“The world in which you live is so cold and dark,
an ideal place for someone like me to leave their mark.”

Held prisoner by this being of all my spite,
I pledge now and forever to do nothing but fight.

Explanation

Poetry at 16. Fairly self-explanatory.

“Explanation” 9-5-97

You live inside my head, causing me much pain and sorrow.

Sometimes I wish you were dead, so I could just get through tomorrow.

When you speak to me, my heart beats so fast.

You make all my thoughts free, and everything done in the past.

People ask me: “How can you say, you love a person before you know him?”

And I answer: “The very same way, you can hate a person before you know them.”

What I fear the most I know is true, the person who lives inside my head just isn’t you.