My Honest Poem

I wrote this poem a while ago after being inspired during a hard night of self reflection by one of my favorite poets, Rudy Francisco, and his 'Honest Poem.' I loved the confessional nature of his words and sat down right then and there to think about what my similar poem would be. And since its the first month of the year I felt like it was a rather appropriate 'first poem' post as well, setting the mood (hopefully) for more self-exploration and growth this year. Now normally I hate imitation, but since some people still believe it is a form of flattery I'll rely on that to say that despite the copied structure, this poem has been one of the most constructive ones emotionally that I have written lately, so I will take artistic credit. I had hoped to record me reading the poem for a more powerful performance but alas, in the end it was not to be. So...lets get to it then.


My Honest Poem


I was conceived in Sydney, Australia. Until I was 8, I didn't really know what that meant.

I'm 5'10" or 180cm, 200 pounds or 14 stone. I don't know when to use who and "whom" but I've got a thing for boys who read dictionaries...especially in different languages.

I'm still learning how to write other peoples names. I often write 'u' when I should be writing 'i', I graduated high school at 17 and I've been trying to finish early ever since.

I like pickle juice...a lot. I've been told that I have a really really hard time paying attention. Some people say its because I don't care. Sometimes, it's because it's true--but secretly its because I've gotten so used to closed doors that I've learned to turn my back on the past and say goodbye before people even start inviting me in.

I have this weird preoccupation with beards and mustaches, I guess its because I spend my time thinking about things I will never have. That's also why I also tend to fall in love with places and not men and surround myself with people who will only ever exist on the internet, but you see--maybe distance isn't always such a bad thing. And to be honest, I think it's easier that way because in the end relationships reminds me that

I'm not afraid of murder, or dying, but I'm afraid of how I'm going to pick my body up off the floor and resurrect this broken map to choose a place on someone's heart to call home. I'm not actually that clever, yesterday I went to a bar down the road, ordered myself a glass mirror and almost choked on an ice cube in a martini glass filled with someone else's tears and now, I can't even tell if they are mine anymore.

I've never been to North Korea, but I have this communist heart. I got it from too many years of making expensive promises to people who I never asked to make any in return. I know this sounds weird, but sometimes I wonder what my refrigerator says about me when the door closes. What those take out containers would do if they knew about the other things I've thrown away before them. You see, I've got a half empty cup of really loud "what if's" but I'm afraid if I let you go too deep you'll find the real answer and drink it up to fill the wells of your own inner dreams.

Hi, my name is Sydney. I enjoy black cats, gin rummy card games, and trying to beat people to the punch. But I don't always use my backbone to stand as straight as I should sometimes.

I have microwave operated patience, I have a hydroponic soul. My hobbies include carving my imperfections into glass mirrors, auditioning for part as savior, using my keys to open other peoples doors, and trying to convince myself that heaven is just something we made up to pass the time.

I don't know much, but I know this. I know that not everyone gets to watch a sunset. I know that that none of us know when its going to end, and I know how saying goodbye is the hardest thing most of us will ever do. But I also know this. I know that there are millions around the world who prefer to wake up each morning to watch the sunrise. It reminds them that no darkness lasts forever.