3 Theme Poem - Sick

What time is it?
I think it’s dark outside.
I’m not quite sure though.
My mind feels hazy.
Like I chugged a bottle of vodka.
I might’ve.
I can’t quite remember.
My book is laying in front of me.
Just slightly out of reach.
The book is opened at the end.
Obviously the happily ever after part.
I wish to be the main character.
I wish to have friends.
I wish to love.
I’m tired of being alone.
Alone.
I’m too familiar with that term now.
Just one person take my hand.
Take it and never let me go.
My lips are quivering
Hands are shaking.
My knees are drawn up to my chest.
I’ve never felt more isolated.
Someone save me!
The tears are bitter
The smile forged
I’m sick of being alone.

The Hate. The Hurt. Forgotten - Performance Poetry

I can't believe you.
Thank you for building up my hopes,
my dreams,
Then watch as they slowly start crumbling

I can't stand to hear your name
It makes me think of the person you've become
I hate that person
This "new you"

Didn't you think things through before doing all of this?
What consequences there were?
Thanks for leaving me behind...
So that you could fulfill your selfish desires.

1) I believe that the type of voice is a hurting type of anger. I think it's slightly different from my normal voice but I think it works nicely in contrast.

2) The type of mood that I'll probably try and attempt with this poem is a

3) I'll assume that the 'moves' that I try to incorporate will try to be like a hurt lover, friend...etc. The anger's still there but yet you can't let go of the memories together.

4) I'd have to say that the most frightening thought about this poem is the movements. I'm easily embarassed and I have a feeling this project won't be any different. Add a bunch of moves to it and you'll have me as a nervous wreck. On a positive note, I do look forward to memorizing this poem I believe it's one of my better pieces.

5) Performance poetry tends to enhance the meaning of the poem by giving you a fairly good idea on how the poem is moving. Such as being within the poem, without truly being there. A dream I suppose...