Your “Hi” is imperceptibly soft
A memory leaking from your innermost corners
A petal, already wilting
As if you know what’s coming
As if you truly believe
I won’t forever wander blindly into your arms
Guided only by the string that pulls me
Always directly with little lax
A tightrope for my heart to run away on
Photo from the Pexels free library – for the visually impaired, the photo shows an empty chair in the middle of a white room.
I’m wandering in circles, like I have somewhere to be, but no one is waiting for me.
I’m just lost in this room, bouncing from window to window.
Photo from the Pexels photo library
What makes a break appealing?
The roughed edges and crumbling pieces?
The promise of what could be?
A gold plated realigning
Designed and designated
A relic, broken, now beautiful
Useless, now worthy
A crack in society
Sealed to history
There’s something gnawing at the edge of my spirit
Small but persistent, hidden
Words once exchanged, hasty love
Bought sight unseen
Stored away in dark, cool places
It becomes secret doors
Scraped away in stone
And hidden ruminations
Based on smell alone
Ragtag Daily Prompt: Gnaw
My words hit you
Violent and cold
Splattering over your skin
Clinging to your hair
A deluge of rain
Cursed as you run
My word today is not from any official source, it’s more as in a deluge of emotions have hit me as 2020 ended and 2021 began. The changing of the year actually brings little change, it’s purely symbolic, but there’s something to be said for moving a little farther from the dumpster fire that last year was. I hope everyone had good holidays and a happy new year.
There’s something to be said for catching your dreams
Wrangling them in as they claw away gravity
To find the sheen diminished
The meaning rusted
Oxidized by our expectations
You’re a haunting
Existing just below my radar
A whiff of thought
A feather tickling my arm
You weigh on my shoulders
A rope tied around my waist
Ensuring that I drown in the memory
The world has been chewing us up
And forgetting to spit us out
I’ve been doing a lot of these random small not-poetry things lately. They encompass the way I feel, like my head’s about to explode at any moment. I tell myself things will get better and I truly believe they will, but sitting in the discomfort of this entire year (or an entire existence) … it’s been an experience.
I had a dream
That I overflowed
And starlight lit my visions
But they were no longer mine
Instead they were plucked off the ground
Ripe fruit tempting those who passed
I’m trying again to write every day. I have to get myself back into the habit of sitting down and making time.
You don’t notice me
I can’t help but imagine
My name dripping from your mouth
A spoonful of soup
Slurped while still boiling
Forming welts on your lips
And your chin
Where I kissed you
Last time you remembered me
You don’t now
But I hope