To them, you are a rainy day
To me, you are dozens of puddles, waiting to be jumped in
To them, you are spam mail
To me, you are a long awaited letter from a lifelong friend
To them, you are a bad hair day
To me, you are my favorite hat
To them, you are a red light that lasted too long
To me, you are my favorite song coming on the radio
To them, you are a hang nail
To me, you are a manicure
To them, you are coffee that got cold
To me, you are a fresh new cup
To them, you are nothing
But to me baby, you are everything.
About the Creator
James Stevison
I'm James, I'm 18, and I'm a transgender wiccan poet/theatre major.
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Ground
Being with her was like walking barefoot on a gravel road. The rocks and bumps poke the bottom of my feet and lead me to walk carefully and lightly with every step. Doing my best to avoid the bigger bumps, bearing the pain of the smaller ones. But then, I found the sidewalk. I thought, this will be better, softer, flatter, more stable. I was able to walk normally, but only for a short time before the cracks began to trip me up, and the hot concrete began to burn. Then I started to walk quicker, in hopes that the faster my steps the less it would burn. But instead i was left with burns and scrapes on my feet from running on the concrete. I thought to myself, will i ever find something sturdy to plant myself on? Will i ever find my ground? And then the sidewalk ended, the road was a dead end, and all that was left was grass, wet with dew. I stepped into it, and the grass healed all the pain the road and sidewalk had caused. The soft blades of green grass gave my feet a thousand kisses. The dew eased the burns and cleaned the scrapes. And I'd found my ground.
By James Stevison7 years ago in Poets
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