I sit on my bed And wait Color drips from my eyes As the rest of my body Desaturates.
Who could ever love Such a pathetic heap As I?
A worthless hole Sucking in resources And spitting nothing out Except confusion And discomfort.
But when I try to reach out For help And happiness They tell me nothing's wrong Unknowingly slapping away My pleading hand And plunging me deeper Into black.
Plus a third one, to make up for missing yesterday:
You ask me what's wrong, but I can't tell you My lips are sealed with guilt My eyes shadowed with fear. My face a mask of jaded skin From all the times I've been let down Selfish of me. But what else am I supposed to expect? Ever since the first grade.
Everyone leaves eventually It's only a matter of time. And now you're slipping away, too I don't know why. Is it because I don't love you? Because that's a lie I do love you. Do I seem too distant? Is my version of love not good enough to make you stay? I know I'm not very affectionate I've never been one for hugs or kisses Does that make my love less valuable to you? Maybe it does. But what else am I supposed to do? Nobody seems to value a smile The simple fact of someone being there With me Together. The colors are fading again.
Agh, the questions </3 T-T I could really feel the doubt and pain and wondering if you'll ever be good enough and-- I don't know how to describe it fully, but it reminded me of some of my journal entries when I was feeling lonely and inadequate. Just-- I resonated with poem 3. And I think that's a mark of great poetry, that it makes you feel. <3 The repetition of "color" and "mask" in the three poems also ties them together really nicely, like they're each telling a part of a story. Wonderful start. Looking forward to the rest of your poems this NaPo, Ari! ^^
I stumble down the hallway, feet thumping numbly against the floorboards. Something about those words opened a wound, an old scar that I didn't know existed Tears are welling up in my eyes, and I still don't understand why As my heart beats faster And faster And faster Fear floods my veins as I reach the kitchen I collapse onto the counter, fingers gripping the cold tile Nobody's home, and I can't feel anything My jaw unhinges of its own accord, air rushes out,
it carries a sound I've never made before
On puppet strings, I collapse in the living room I pull my hair but no sensation comes I can't stop screaming, nobody's home The shadows are coming to get me.
This last one really evokes some strong emotions! To me it made me think of strong fear and being out of control (with the puppet strings) and maybe also the feeling of being overwhelmed! Great job making the emotion physical too - that made it really feel vivid! Looking forward to reading more, keep up the great work!
you should know i am a time traveler & there is no season as achingly temporary as now
Her feet brush lightly over the grass, her head is wreathed in clouds. Her arms span miles as she raises them, scraping glitter from the moon It showers her in light, catching in the rivers of her hair Waves of night tumbling past her shoulders. She dances slowly, softly, like the wind that winds through the pines And whispers in my ears Whshhh Whshhh The gentle breeze of spring.
A small hot wire That's what you are A tornado trapped in a jar Covered in jeans and band T-shirts Home-bleached hair and nose piercings Ready to bite whoever comes close
At least, that's what you want us to believe.
But you're like a watermelon Heavy and formidable at first, but once cracked You bare your delicate insides Sweet water pouring out And pooling around your feet Until you see your own reflection And realize Just how broken you really are A hard shell Filled with glass
ARI AAAHHH omg your poems are amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love all of the descriptions of impossible things that are possible i in poem #7 i just can’t get over it!!! keep writing <333
she/her————pro-life————Christian————climber of rocks, trees, and rooftops----reader of poetry, Antoine de Saint Exupery, Pam Munoz Ryan, and Anthony Doerr "She is too fond of books, and it has turned her brain." -Louisa May Alcott
Gender:
Points: 27
Reviews: 52