I close my eyes for a moment, hearing
What's making you nervous.
I took a slice of moon and put it in your hair,
and from you, I've become
A cigarette to the ground.
Live my life,
I am bitter.
The eyes look up at their creator,
Don't feel a thing like peace.
And how you could almost taste it,
Like no survivor from this battlefield,
Filled with scarlet waves of fear.
Their words fly around my head,
Nameless,
and denied.
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Nice poem! I really like the part about the slice of moon and a cigarette.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, not sure if you remember me or not, but I'm back from my blog break :)
Very cool...the language is super vivid and compelling. I can feel the bitterness and denial. Nice.
ReplyDeleteVery interesting--in a very good way!
ReplyDelete~Kendrabelle