I hate this
I hate this
This struggle with love
This mudded tug o' war
My feet slipping out beneath me
Buried rock shards
Stab and rake
Across shadowed skin
I see her
My gut flip flops
A fish out of water
I choke on my own words
Flip...
Flop...
Suffocating on silence
It was like tea
I made
Hot water with dried
"I like yous"
Caught in a net of
"I'm a complete novice at life"
"A fool in a sea of normalcy"
"Never mind me"
But do
It doesn't matter
Every day a new reservation
To stifle the onslaught
To purge the only feelings I have
For new ones
And new ones
I hate this
The wonder of new daisies
Spun like wild gypsy skirts
A green meadowed snow melt
Afraid of the sun
She
Is...
My fingers know it
As they slip and fiddle and drop
...Beautiful
She
Is...
Oil to my water maybe
Persuasion to my persuasion
Majors to my minors
...Beyond my reach
And every day
I pretend for nothing
Shrinking back in my shell
Counting breaths
Like flower petals
Flip...
Flop...
12 comments:
What a wonderful read!!!! struggle within; struggle without, lovely construct and vivid imagery makes this all vibrant.
I hate this
The wonder of new daisies
Spun like wild gypsy skirts
A green meadowed snow melt
Afraid of the sun
love this...all really good...great flow and tangible emotions as well..in comparing ourselves to others.
She
Is...
Oil to my water maybe
Persuasion to my persuasion
Majors to my minors
...Beyond my reach .... ah never good to compare ourselves..yet we do so easily...felt write...felt emotions..
interesting struggles here--I like your use of "flip flops". Before you mention them, your feet (where flip flops should be) slip. Then your gut flip flops and then the flip flopping makes its way to your mouth! A great use of movement.
Internal conflict becoming external conflict becoming internal conflict becoming external words on screen.
Really beautiful words...tossed around to paint a vivid picture of what turmoil goes on with the heart... A.
and then you get to a point where you just give it all up.....
"Never mind me, but do" that's the flip flop that speaks to me. Original, heartfelt. Nice write!
I read this before and RTed it on Twitter. The image of a fish, caught, gasping for bresth as it dies is a devastating metaphor for love. I hate to think how many times I felt this way. Love is not always so warm and fuzzy and your poem reminds us of that.
What a strong opening line! "I hate this" To generate such a visual and emotional struggle under the weight of an emotion of absolutes takes talent and vision. Wonderful sharing.
Excellent! Love is sometimes torture!
Anna :o]
A good read, nicely penned !
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