"She Speaks the Truth"

Daisy's picture

--- Newest poem of mine that I actually like. As with a lot of my stuff, it's meant as a performance piece. But a lot of it is about being gay, so I thought I'd post it, just for kicks. It's kinda long, but I swear, it goes real fast when it's spoken, instead of read... Yeah. Here it is. ---

She Speaks the Truth

I am caught here
with no activity
left to me
but waiting.
I have this amazing
it feels like
my skull is opening up.
The applause lifts
around me
it is tangible
made of water.
I sit
at its center.
The applause replaces the air.
I am scared
I will drown in it.
Certain children receive
a black mark
at birth;
a smear
of ash
on their foreheads, pressed there
by angels.
I can see them.
I don’t know
what the mean
but they are real. They are actual,
they are
we are only strings
of humming broken things like
and gloves and
bells that ring
in unison.
We are only
the sum of all our parts
the collective beating
of our hearts
the effect of sun on plastic, the sound that an elastic
makes as it snaps against
your hand. We are only
animals. The White House is just
a house, Paris is just
a city
the pyramids
are just
fifteen years of memories
you are in denial.
Your personality
is a coping mechanism.
Your anger is your best defense and apathy is the antidote to any problem anyway and PIGS WILL NEVER FLY and EVEN STARS DIE and my headache is THE ONLY REAL THING LEFT IN THE WORLD.
And oh, I may be very brave but I’m not brave enough to simply scream.
like a liar, but I’ve only spoken truth and the thing about youth
is that it ticks away, every second of every day
every one of us is
getting older
getting colder
getting closer
to dying
getting used to the idea
of lying
about their age
for the sake of commerce.
I don’t feel anything.
I’ll believe it when I see it.
I am so scared
of what was
assigned to me
the idea of being
a true minority
is terrifying
his face becomes a map
to everything that’s ever gone wrong in my life.
The angle of his shoulders, the line of his jaw.
I am the only real beholder here and I am in awe.
He is a bastard and he is
an angel
the devil
in tights
the bringer
of light
and I think I am the only one who knows it.
Sometimes watching her move is a physical pain.
That piece of my heart is still missing and I remember because she is on stage because there is so much unspoken rage and love and lust and falling fucking expectations, falling fucking stars.
Four girls lie parallel in a tent, concealing who they are inside sleeping bags.
The turns becomes mine to her and so I say the truth.
“For nine months of my life, everything you did was a miracle.


chevamartin's picture

ifall in and outof love

in and out
of love with you
several times a day

i really like that
i think you have a great way of writing exactly what you think and what you're thinking then and making it completely appropriate to the poem. everything sounds like a poem, the way it should, and it really flows.

sportytatu's picture

dude im a southern gal but i

dude im a southern gal but i have to say that that was bloody brilliant.
people say love is blind, then isnt it blind for gender as well?

id walk through hell in a gasoline suite to keep playing softball.

Sirens call's picture


Wow, I think that is probably one of, if not THE best poem I've ever read. Somebody already said this, but yeah it flows really well...like it was impossible for me to stop reading half way through, even for a second because it would be ruined. I'm going to go read it again, lol.

...It's art :D


ACCgirl's picture


this is one of the best works of poetry i've come across on this site...a prime example of how an excellent stream of conscience poem is supposed to look.

i love the subtle internal rhyme and the fragmented thoughts. but i like even more that i can relate to what you're saying.

the mouse that roared's picture


That was beautiful. I know what you mean, too.

“For nine months of my life, everything you did was a miracle.

Ebony's picture

That was amazing! It was unli

That was amazing! It was unlike any other poem I've ever read, and it really made me think.

"The White House is just
a house, Paris is just
a city
the pyramids
are just
fifteen years of memories"

I love that part.
It was as if you said what everyone else is afraid to say, or doesn't realise is true.