I Don’t Know What I’m Doing


You cannot rewrite me and you cannot fight me

but, yes, you can spite me.

Spite the words that roll off my tongue.

Spite the air that comes from my lungs.

But lover of mine,

made from flowers and twine,

you are not the one for me.

I promise I will not plea

for a relationship that’s falling apart

even though I may still stand back and view you as art. 

That doesn’t mean I want you back.

You make my mind cloud black.

Still I want to be there for you

though you make me feel ever so blue.

Still I want to be seen as a friend. 

If we really must find that end

make it easy for your mind

and it is then I think you’ll find

the happiness you so desire.

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Knox (18) resides in Portland. Writing is something that is built into him, it comes very naturally for him, and as the years go by he has appreciated it more and more. He would like to work more with fiction and poetry in the near future, slam poetry in particular, as it speaks to him the most.

Knox Cornell