Poems from Periods of Uncertainty

I’ve been writing poetry every since I knew how to write. It’s one of my favorite ways to express myself and be creative. Poetry helps me put words to feelings I can't describe and allows me to pour out my heart in an ambiguous way. At this point, I have undoubtedly written hundreds and hundreds of poems and still have some stashed away, which I wrote as early as age four (no, they are not good, trust me). Growing up, I shared my poems without hesitation and it was not uncommon for me to write them for my relatives, friends, teachers, and other loved ones. But around the time I entered high school, I completely stopped sharing my poetry. My writing became more personal. Sharing a poem meant sharing some of my deepest feelings, which I had no desire to do. Since the beginning of high school to now, I have only shared my poetry with a small handful of people. And even then, I am still hesitant to share my deeper and more personal poems. But for someone who will never shut up about the importance of vulnerability and courage regarding our experience as humans, I thought I should make sure I’m not being a hypocrite.

So here I will share three poems I wrote during periods of uncertainty. Poems I haven't shared elsewhere and never intended to. These are by no means my favorite poems, and are of a small percentage of my writing which feels more negative than uplifting— but that’s not the point, the feelings are honest. They were not all written recently, but I will leave them undated and unexplained, because I don’t want to influence your perception of them. Hopefully you interpret them in a way that is at least a little bit meaningful or relatable. And if they don’t resonate with you at all, that’s cool too!

 

[Daydreaming]

the humming warmth

of sunlit memories

that have yet to reach me

buzz in my mind

like dainty determined insects

       bound to hold me

       to bathe in my energy

       which has grown so patiently

       for raw tender moments

       romantic and platonic alike

 

[Cold Thoughts]

visions of grey pale mornings

and chapped lips

jerk me awake

          tonight i sleep dreamlessly

          tormented by these thoughts

numbers,

untouched by the hour’s hand

breathe down my neck

          like a hungry bear.

going deeper,

into a white weary wood

these trees and their absence of stains and stitches

pierce my gut

          like a sharp twig

splinters,

loosen under my skin

to the will of the hours

          the days

          the months

          like my sense of security

afraid to devote myself wholeheartedly

to feelings of impermanence,

but I force these cold thoughts into silence.

 

[A Sore Melody]

everyday

I watch my gentle soul collapse

into the pit 

of bottomless uncertainty

          I can feel her

          growing bitter

          to the light that scrapes her fingertips

          and keeps her up at night

          like a sore melody

screaming

with the shrill

of prideful, careful mockery

 

x Nicole Leary

 

 

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