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I’m a writer; therefore, I lie.
Sitting all alone
I think to myself.
Wonder where you are,
where you’ll be,
how you are.
I ask myself all these questions
I should be asking you.
And now I’m writing a poem
on the back of a napkin
with a circular coffee stain.
And I’m making up answers
to my questions
because I’m far too afraid
to get them from you.
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This article has 27 comments.
Nah. I didn't. One of the reasons the title is called, "I'm a writer; therefore, I lie." I am lying about the narrator/voice actually doing this and the narrator/voice is lying with the answers he/she is creating in his/her "poem". (I actually always imagined the narrator/voice being a man...)
If I ever do a visual poetry piece with this I will be taking a napkin, making a circular coffee stain (from the bottom of a mug) and write the poem on it then place it on some sort of table that looks like it'd be at a diner and place a rock or something on it to "hold it down".
*like*
did you actually write it on a napkin? just wondering. I totally get this :) and I love the title.
