My life is comprised of inconsistencies, daydreaming, procrastination techniques and occasionally, writing.
“You wrote down that you were a writer by profession. It sounded to me like the loveliest euphemism I had ever heard. When was writing ever your profession? It's never been anything but your religion." - J.D. Salinger
I would like to say this quote describes me but I'm one of those writers who just procrastinates all the time. More of a "writer" if I'm being honest. To those unfortunate enough to read my work: I very much appreciate any comment you can provide, particularly if it's the constructive kind.
Written By: Grace Mary Potts
January 3, 2015
You frustrate me like nothing else,
But somehow draw a laugh,
You can make me scream like no one else,
But when you’re gone I feel like I’m missing half.
You poke fun at me all the time,
But there’s playfulness in your eyes,
You think my glasses are a crime,
But then you stay up with me to watch the starry skies.
It’s not right how you drive me up the wall,
And get a kick out of it too,
But then pick up the phone when I call,
And when I cry you ask what? Why? Who?
It’s not fair how beneath all the banter,
And aggravating ways,
You care about me like no other,
And somehow I know you’ll be there for me, always.
Because you drive me insane,
When you act so cavalier,
Then when I think there might be air in your brain,
You start acting sincere.
And the real kicker in all of this,
Is that while I might brush you off,
At night I wonder what it’d be like to kiss,
Instead of roll my eyes and scoff.
Because you are the cause of my madness,
But beneath all the grief,
You bring me the very opposite of sadness,
And you might love me just a bit,
And in spite of all the hair pulling,
And your constantly immature teasing,
Your presence is somewhat fulfilling,
Like without you there’s a piece of me missing.
I know it might seem odd to say,
Considering how I treat you,
But I couldn’t imagine not seeing you every day,
And maybe, quite possibly,
I might just love you too.
So I tried my hand at writing a love poem. Yeah.