Coming off the high of a fabulous birthday weekend… and I am drifting off into a mini(many)-depression, so I decided I needed to write(right). I have this feeling of despondency and don’t know how to shake it. I have not ever felt so lonely. Not lonely in the sense of people not being around, but lonely in the sense that I just can’t quite connect with the people around me. It is like the world is moving around me but I am in slow motion. It is like I want to tell people hello but they are moving too fast to notice me. The only “friend” that slows down to embrace me is depression. How about that for a toxic friendship? Anyway, I wrote this poem because I need some positive life forces to stop, take notice of me, and just clap for me to encourage me to keep going and pick up speed with the real world. This is a poem means a great deal to me. I actually wrote it in about 10 minutes and even had it memorized the next day. Yes, it wrote itself. That’s how it goes when something is brewing in your spirit just fighting to get out. I hope you enjoy it, but moreso I hope you understand it and therefore understand me…
I need someone to clap for me
Days like these I crave applause
If I can’t get a round of it
I’ll settle for a scrap of it
At least a snap of it
So I can snap out of it
And I don’t know what IT is
But I want out of it
But the only way to free me
Is to recognize me
Look at me
Behold my sight
So I can hold on to my sanity
To know that my identity…
Matters.
To someone besides me.
I need to know someone is beside me
On the side of me
Reassure the pride in me
Lonely is only good if you decide to be
But I awake every morning to the sound of one hand clapping
I need ovations
Preferably standing
I’m just not understanding
How I ended up the supporting actress in my one woman show
To a audience of none
I need a fan if only just one
To confirm my existence
Acknowledge my persistence
I want to be great in the mind of someone else too
I need someone to miss me
Shit, even dismiss me
Because even then they may feel some kinda way about me
But at least they would have felt something
To quote myself
“I am tired of throwing poetry slams in my bathroom mirror
With tears as audiences
Leaky faucets snapping after each verse”
And I hate that fucking poem
Because it is true.
And now the applause sign is blinking
And I am thinking
Why is it so quiet?
Did they not hear my ultimate slam poem called life
I wouldn’t care if you low-scored it
I just wouldn’t be able to bear if you ignored it
Caution wet floor because my soul I just poured it
Pain I endured it…
And I just want you to reward it
With the action of pressing one hand against another rapidly
As if my life depended on it
And when I finished that line
I thought about crossing the finish line
In a race alone if you come in first
You still come in last
No matter how fast…. you try to run
Good thing the starter pistol is not a loaded gun
Otherwise I would have ended this reality before it had even begun
And the only thing that would have stopped me….
Was for someone to clap for me.
