It Has Got To Be You

"IT HAS GOT TO BE YOU"
by Chanel Wiggins 4/12/09

It couldn't be me,
so there's only one logical explanation;
it has got to be you.
"You", as in each guy that crosses paths with me
and directs me towards a dead end.
"You", as in that perfect soul who arrives just in the nick of time,
and saves me from the heartache before.
You know who I'm talking about, it's all so familiar.

I'm talking about the guy that's reading this poem now and questioning himself,
"Is she talking about me?"
The smooth talker who whispered in my ear, told me that I was his,
and then told another girl the same damn thing an hour later.
The guy that offers to pick me up from work, knowing that I drove myself,
trying to be slick by making me think he's the sweetest thing on earth.
How many guys could "YOU" be?
I aint found that special one yet, so let's keep going.

"You" are the one who wants me to fall asleep on the phone,
so you can be the last one I talk to.
The man who is too good to be true, everything feels perfect,
until one day he just stops showing up.
You're the one that steals my heart, gets jealous when I talk to guys,
but expects me to watch you flirt with other women.
You are not the 1st nor last, there are many more like you.
Many more that I despise like you.

"You", as in the same guy who said he wishes he had someone to love.
Well that someone came, and you didn't want her,
so you were basically talking out your ass.
"You", as in the person I gave my everything to,
but you didn't appreciate me or all that I've done.
Therefore, I'm too lazy to give my all to the next one.
Now I don't even want there to be a next one.
All he is going to be is another "you".

I hate you telling me the right things that I want to hear at the right moment.
You spending hours and hours with me at a time,
but in the end amount to nothing at all.
"You", the one that claims me as your girl, but in the eyes of the public,
I don't even seem to exist.
And then its your fault for making me think that the one before was actually better,
although yall were both less than what I deserve.

"You" are you,
and "you" will never stop being you.
But you can definitely stop with me.
Because I volunteer to no longer take part in your little experiment,
or be labeled as another one of your groupies.
My time shall no longer be wasted.
I am not looking for hurt, pain, guys that run game,
a one night stand, or a history of lies.
Real men, know what you want.
Until then, you're doing a great job being another "YOU".

I Want To Write Poetry

I Want To Write Poetry 01/03/09
by Chanel Wiggins

I want to write poetry because I have too many things inside my head,
too many feelings bottled up.
Too many experiences I’ve been through,
too many close calls I’ve encountered.
A pen and a pad is the only place that I can free my mind,
relax when I need an outlet to run away to.
I don’t even have any peace within my mind,
because too many thoughts are rolling around wanting to get out onto this paper.
I need to release the hate,
the loathe, the resentment.
I need to unleash the love,
the laughter, the tears of joy.
I just have to unwind all that’s in between
and let my story be told.
My words are the only thing I can truly call my own.
They have no monetary value or a price,
and if they did, they would be priceless.
For what I’ve been through was priceless and now I’m sharing with you,
sharing what I’ve endured with the world.
My happy place.
I take these jumbled up emotions and make sense out of them.
The feeling of writing relaxes me,
calms me and soothes me.
Pleases me unlike any love I’ve ever known.
It’s not something I like to do, but more like something I---
need.
I want to write poetry because it is a part of me,
and if I stopped then I wouldn’t be a whole person,
just half or maybe even a quarter.
We are like outcasts looking in on a perfect world.
You play division 1 sports, but I write.
You get good grades, but I write.
You work all day long making millions of dollars but I write.
You do your thing, and I’ll keep writing.
It’s not something that you learn to do,
you just do it.
I want to write poetry all day long without a care in the world,
without a worry in my head,
without a feeling in my heart.
But then I wouldn’t be a poet,
because poets need things to worry about and inspirations to write.
I don’t want to write poetry,
I “need” to write poetry.