How can it be that someone with so many any ones
can feel so isolated and abandoned
You know they can see you,
but more a ghost of you--
like something inside of you,
the essence of you,
is invisible to your many any ones
The deep down of you is misunderstood
or worse, simply unknown
and you’ve become nothing more than a phantom
of yourself and only exist as
what you’ve been deemed to be
by your many any ones
How can it be that someone with so many any ones
can feel like a ghost haunting their own life
An inanimate being drifting
in drafts
and between cracks of thoughts of how
you are seen through the eyes of your many any ones
And you wonder how it came to this,
how you became this ghost in the photograph
where you don’t recognize your own face
Yet it must be you because she wears your smile
and has your eyes but
somehow it is not you and you know it’s not
but they demand it is who you are
Yet your soul screams and your heart bleeds the truth
How can it be that someone with so many any ones
can feel so isolated, abandoned
with dusty dreams
that the many any ones don’t even know exist
And when you grow out of the ghost of
all you’re expected to be to become what you should
always have been--
how can it be the many any ones seem so shocked,
dismayed, that you’re not content within
your determined role in their life
And sometimes,
at two a.m.,
when you’re less alone then
when you’re surrounded by your many any ones
you have to wonder how you lost everything
you were. Where this hole in you came from
Sometimes at two a.m. you have to admit
you made yourself a ghost,
you thought it was best to shell yourself out
remove what may not be for the best of the many
any ones
And you have to question,
how you thought haunting your own life
could be best for any one
How can it be that I, with so many any ones
could isolate and abandon myself
and still claim I loved my many any ones
with everything I had,
gave everything I could
when the best parts were buried away
and a ghost took my place within
photographs and
memories
Author Bio:
Jennie Hope Meres is a poet and fiction writer currently residing with her husband and children in the New York area. She fell in love with the nuances of words as a young girl after being handed a book of poetry. She then began her foray into the world of writing by emulating her favorite childhood poets until she grew into her own voice.
can feel so isolated and abandoned
You know they can see you,
but more a ghost of you--
like something inside of you,
the essence of you,
is invisible to your many any ones
The deep down of you is misunderstood
or worse, simply unknown
and you’ve become nothing more than a phantom
of yourself and only exist as
what you’ve been deemed to be
by your many any ones
How can it be that someone with so many any ones
can feel like a ghost haunting their own life
An inanimate being drifting
in drafts
and between cracks of thoughts of how
you are seen through the eyes of your many any ones
And you wonder how it came to this,
how you became this ghost in the photograph
where you don’t recognize your own face
Yet it must be you because she wears your smile
and has your eyes but
somehow it is not you and you know it’s not
but they demand it is who you are
Yet your soul screams and your heart bleeds the truth
How can it be that someone with so many any ones
can feel so isolated, abandoned
with dusty dreams
that the many any ones don’t even know exist
And when you grow out of the ghost of
all you’re expected to be to become what you should
always have been--
how can it be the many any ones seem so shocked,
dismayed, that you’re not content within
your determined role in their life
And sometimes,
at two a.m.,
when you’re less alone then
when you’re surrounded by your many any ones
you have to wonder how you lost everything
you were. Where this hole in you came from
Sometimes at two a.m. you have to admit
you made yourself a ghost,
you thought it was best to shell yourself out
remove what may not be for the best of the many
any ones
And you have to question,
how you thought haunting your own life
could be best for any one
How can it be that I, with so many any ones
could isolate and abandon myself
and still claim I loved my many any ones
with everything I had,
gave everything I could
when the best parts were buried away
and a ghost took my place within
photographs and
memories
Author Bio:
Jennie Hope Meres is a poet and fiction writer currently residing with her husband and children in the New York area. She fell in love with the nuances of words as a young girl after being handed a book of poetry. She then began her foray into the world of writing by emulating her favorite childhood poets until she grew into her own voice.
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