Tidal Wave

I honestly don't often understand poetry. I guess its because I don't have the tools to dissect their uses of literary devices, but, if I did have the tools, I don't think I would care enough to take the time to do so. I'm not saying that poetry isn't an art form of value, but I like things said straight out, no games, or hidden meanings. Give it to me straight. I can handle it. And if I can't...well then I'll write my own poetry about it.

So here is a poem, that really wasn't something I intended to write. I don't even know if it can be considered a poem. It doesn't employ stylish techniques, but I think it does give justice to something that happened years ago. Something that I guess just hasn't left me.

(It was possibly brought out of me because I was asked on a date, which I will be going on this coming Friday)


Step-dad. there is nothing to say
except that it hurt
when you left
years of you
one minute to your car
and a lifetime of nothing
you are the father of my fear

Mom. she broke down into
a stream of tears
and I couldn't swim
there was no one else to
keep her afloat
and every so often I sprung a leak


Me. Eventually I did it.
My anxiety left, when I learned to swim.
But, so did my confidence and trust
in anyone who could induce such a tidal wave.