Light blushes as it spies my room,
where my wings twitter at my side.
My eyes are torpid,
and my head echoes disgustingly,
like a mongoloid.
These bars do not block the barks
and each night I lie awake, as a sick kitten.
They said vodka, albeit raspberry,
would not help. Though, my throat wanted it,
and my head longed to hang.
Perhaps from an awning. It has been so long.
I cannot be the cheesecloth girl
who tiptoes along my thoughts.
The sockets of my eyes will not let her out.
They grey and mould and fold along the edges,
like an invalid.
written: Sunday 26th November 2006, 2:53pm.
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Canary word: Present
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
hmm... you lost me for what you are trying to say. whenever i read your poetry, i feel as if i nearly understand, yet i lose it all by the next line.
it was a nice poem... but i don't think i really understand it.
This is good, very mysterious. I especially like the opening stanza, its very effective. And the last lines are also very very good, i like this alot, well done.
Meevs
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