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What I Really Want

by Daisy Florence about a year ago in surreal poetry

Poem and Feelings

(I've been trying not to leave such big gaps between each line but it's really difficult with the format that Vocal sets out. I will leave this poem a little gappy today.) I wrote this poem in a bad place. A few years ago now. My job was becoming more and more stressful and I was still living with my parents who I haven't always seen eye-to-eye with. I was feeling like I just needed to get away from it all. I felt like I couldn't be loved back in a romantic or platonic sense. I felt like I didn't deserve my family or friends. I was completely worthless to myself and even to this day I still feel it a little. This poem got to me and I had to write it all down - what I was feeling in that very moment. Needless to say - I felt much better afterwards.

What I really want

What do I really want?


I’ll contemplate my fantasies now…

Here we go

Sometimes I think I should turn these contemplations into songs

But I would have to rhyme more for that

I wish I had more money

I’d have to work more for that

I think I’m pretty easy going

But I get in the way of myself

I think my existence is pretty disposable

; a word I’ve been throwing around lately

I want to move to another country.

I want to do it immediately

So really... I want to run away to another country?

I guess that’s it

It’s a whimsical feeling of needing to belong

Needing to be free

Although I don’t know what I would be freeing myself from

My life is pretty good here

Aside from a lot of unnecessary stress

; something that seems to follow me around wherever I go

I’ve already made a lot of commitments so it would be a selfish move indeed

I want to start a new life

Where I don’t know anyone anymore

I can start a fresh

And be someone else

Someone way different from myself

I would appear to be exactly the same

But I would be happy on the inside

I could get a new job even though I didn’t go to university

I wouldn’t need to go because they would just teach me on the job

And I would be doing so well and I would be earning a lot of money

And I wouldn’t make any emotional ties because they hold me back and make my head hurt

I could pretend I never had a childhood

Or a family

Or was responsible for anybody else’s happiness

Is that the human condition?

Wanting to be alone because being with others makes you care about them and it hurts too much?

I don’t know

I really don’t

I could get a tiny clean apartment in the upper floor and converted attic of an old building with high ceilings somewhere

In a city

And the sea would be there

And I could see it from a big circular window

And the window swings open inward and I could sit in a comfy little chair at night with a blanket and a tea and be happy

And I could watch the sun set on the sea and then see the stars descend into the ocean

And the moon would be so big

And I could see it pushing and pulling the waves

And I would be happy

And I would have nobody to care about and nobody to care about me

And I would be happy

And I could calmly and quietly watch the sea

And I could paint the apartment white and pastel pink

It would be soft and comfortable

And the light would be warm and yellow and soft and not sharp and cheap and tacky

And I would love myself

And my job

And my house

And where I was on the planet

And if I got bored I would just move on and it wouldn’t be selfish because it would affect anyone else because there would be nobody else

And I could leave

And I would start it all over again

No ties

Good job

Good wages

Nice old clean apartment

Above an old building

A privately-owned shop perhaps

Just barely getting by

And nobody would disturb me

And I would see the sea

And I would be in the city

And I can watch cars and people go by

And I could be silent and still in my own little bubble

Where I can’t hurt anyone

And they can’t hurt me

And I would be happy

So that is what I really want

I hope it explains everything

If it doesn’t then that is probably why I left in the first place

And if I didn’t leave

Then you’ll understand me more than if I did

I don’t know if you even understand that

If you don’t; take it to a very empathetic and deep old man

If you do; thank you


surreal poetry

Daisy Florence

Hi - I'm Daisy. I'm an amateur poet and I have a lot of feelings to express. Have a little read and let me know what you think of my writing!

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Daisy Florence
Read next: Dance Til the End of My Life

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