5/18/11

Things Forgotten
By Raeanne Theiss


I am not enough
I am unwholesome
missing parts, here and there
I am plenty in mass, size, and color
but I am still not enough.
I am an inadequate piece of
furniture in a home
that is not my own.
I am not enough,
enough to satisfy or suffice
enough to compensate for others
or
myself.
I am not enough to save or to grace.
Not enough to help or make sense.
I am not enough but plenty impure
unclean
and unholy.
I am not enough to curb the hunger
for I am just a morsel.
Picked up off the floor.
I am not enough to be anyone
not even me, or you
I am not enough to be worthy of
his love.
For he will never be whole again.
I am not enough to hate myself
or even by my own breed.
I am not enough to fill up a lifetime
wandering helplessly through the endless
corridors of time.
Of my life.
I am not enough to satisfy
myself.
Not even the lonely fly on the wall.
I am not enough, nor will I
ever be.
But you. You’re enough. of
You’re more than enough.
You are so much more than enough
and it pains me to see that you’re blind.
You will never know that you’re enough
for me.
You will never know my satisfaction
that only you could create.
You have always been enough to compensate
for my mistakes.
You are enough to enrich my life
to make it whole for once.
You are more than enough
you’re too much.
You overflow into my life,
knocking down boundaries,
flooding my veins
raising goose bumps and
igniting the light I lost.
And finally,
for one fleeting,
beautiful,
peaceful, moment in my life
I can say that
I
am
enough.


- - -
I'm 18, a student at Slippery Rock University. My thoughts on writing: Real writers don’t need anything to write about. They just write. Its like the soul talking, and its guiding the hand across the keys or moving the pen. It just happens. This just happened.