creep up pale cheek,
whisper about me
behind the teeth.
tendrils burying into scalp,
snapping the neck back
into vulnerability.
some say these soft,
phantom weeds, born
of the mind can be easily
exterminated through a wish
to be free, clearly they have
forgotten, we are no more than
lost children of Eden,
searching for meaning.
Inexplicable sadness
carried by the wind,
germinates into a dull ache,
sprouting dissociation as fresh roots
wrap around the ribcage, bitter,
beating heart numb to the bites of
venomous, verminous thoughts,
they have a stronger desire for life
than I can muster, no more than
a careless cadaver,
caught in the headlights.
A poor little flower-bed,
drowned in homemade herbicide.
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Poetry is a special art in which you are gifted.
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oh my, what a high compliment, thank you so much, I’m genuinely very very humbled.
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You are welcome π
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That was so genuinely beautiful. I don’t know if this is intentional but I personally loved how the title of the poem is also the first line! I found that really effective!
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thank you so much, this poem was actually originally born from a draft I put in a ‘diary-app’!
So the structure kinda was like that originally and I liked it & kept it π
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Well it definitely worked and I’m glad you kept it! Keep it up and I’m so glad to see you around my blog too! I always love to see the community in action – it reminds me why i started blogging in the first place! π
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Sounds like a growing infection of poisonous Flower(thoughts). Nice Poem, good read.
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Hi Maggy! I’m visiting from your comment on my women’s day blog post. I absolutely love your poetry. This poem is beautiful and the words you use give it so much depth. Followed you and I look forward to reading more π
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