Porcelain Fall

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Where did it go
The feeling of abandon
That euphoria I had been so accustomed to
Everlasting acquiescent peace
That calm before the storm
Turmoil, that word unknown
Now so dear to me
Longing that dream to be me
The forgotten person I am
Shadows of a life only suit the undead
And maybe that is what has become of me
Because as the tides do turn
As the branches swing
I am here
And forgotten
Harlequin faces dance to the tune I have never played
Although resemblance to that feeling I forgot
May have awoken with it
That, that feeling in which the world was mine
Not forgotten but rejoiced
Reknown with terrible beauty that was me
But not so
Not as I lie here
Not as I sleep
Caught within fears non-existent
Made up to keep myself imprisoned
And forgotten
And I realize this to be true
I am mine own bindings
The chains that tear my skin
I see now only my outgrown nails
Curling as they do
Decaying only from my skin and blood caught beneath
It is a wonder how I arrived in my dream-like state
Dazed to confusion
Only lacking mortified inconvenience
Time that failed the quota
In that which held me sane
Now only forgotten
Yet I am here
And I do breathe
But no one comes
Comes to my dark mind
To find me
And be here
And know me
Know what I hide
And hide with me
The reason for that I do know
For they are forgotten
Them, not I
It was trivial to suggest
Only what my bizarre mind would
That living in shadows
I only forgot myself
Yet, they forgot me as I did
And only will remember if I do
If I remember
And return




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Hey there ladyworks
This was interesting. Some deep stuff. I can see you had a lot on your mind and a lot to say. I liked it very much, the whole execution I thought was great. I think that you did a pretty good job.

Longing that dream to be me
The forgotten person I am
Shadows of a life only suit the undead
And maybe that is what has become of me
Because as the tides do turn
As the branches swing
I am here
And forgotten

This part right here was actually gripping and good flow of ideas. Good job.
Ziggie
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Reviews 56
I very much enjoyed this poem also. I really like the title--it captured my interest. I also like the flow of this piece, you have some very good word choice here (turmoil, acquiescent, harlequin, etc.), and the content is profound.

ladyworkz wrote:I am mine own bindings
The chains that tear my skin
I see now only my outgrown nails
Curling as they do
Decaying only from my skin and blood caught beneath


That's my favorite part. It conjures such a powerful image. Great work.
If I had wings, I would have opened them.
I would have risen from the ground.

-Mary Oliver



Too bad all the people who know how to run this country are busy running taxicabs or cutting hair.
— George Burns