Tag: metaphors

Poems · writing

Anxiety

delightedpessimist4 Comments

I am indifferent

I am closed off

I am jumping to conclusions

I am a wrinkled shirt at the bottom of the dryer

Forgotten in a frenzied morning filled with burnt coffee and runny eggs

I am a thunderclap sounding a second too late

I am a friendship bracelet frayed at the edges

I am a stomach filled with squirming snakes

I am a June night where you can’t get comfortable

No matter how many times pillows are flipped, sheep are counted, eyelids flutter. Still awake.

I am late acceptance letters

I am sleeping until noon

I am “all in your mind”

I am breaking into pieces as I shudder you apart

And as long as you let me, I will stay.

Poems · writing

Peaceful Observance

delightedpessimist1 Comment

I want to fall asleep in the sun

Full of warmth and comfort

Impeded by no one

I want to feel the breeze on my skin

Surrounded by flowers,

Pollen-headed bees tumble lazily in.

I want to watch their slow dance,

Entranced by their diligence, their inability to wear pants,

And on the tops of their silly-heads

Two little antennae bumble about

Looking around for the next bloom to sniff out

(Do bumblebees have noses?)

There are questions I suppose(s) that will abound,

Human nature itself is sort of tumbling around.

And in grief, I think, we know this,

Though when that familiar friend leaves for the summer

We pretend not to notice

He was never there.

Without a care, I lie among the roses,

Prick my fingers on the thorns

I will never pick them.

I watch the bumblebees tumble around

Poems · writing

Feverish

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The orange blossoms on your sweet tooth yellow at me as I smile at you and I can’t gather these withering flowers with ugly dreams, nasty fiends, knocking at my door

What is it for?

Single melodies playing all around pretend to revel in its percussive sound

You know I’ll always be around

Until I’m not.

Who’s happy with their lot when all you are is what you’ve got

Distracted fingers memorize stop lights and bruises, alcoholic cruises melt into me and out of you

Liquid malnourishment

Find your tongue is spent working its way through the cash in my wallet

Blue rubber bands paperback hands jumping frogs and mildew incense

Innocence lost lost lost in every note

Feverish pursuit, bulbous trees taking root,

I’m too late.

Poems · writing

Whispered Things

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I’m afraid my heart is closing up

I’m afraid the love I gave was never enough

I’m afraid of Time

Of the lines it furrows deep between, under, outside my eyes

I fear the timidness lurking inside, a meek spirit waiting to take over any liquid fire slipping passed my lips

I’ve felt it entangle me, encouraging every doubt, stroking each insecurity.

A russet hound, sickly and old

Begrudgingly, I allow these feelings to take hold

Scarcely aware of the inequities.

Old stuff · Poems · writing

Thinking in Watercolor

delightedpessimistLeave a comment

My body is haphazard stitches and broken bones. Tear me to shreds, I no longer fear an injured heart. This one shattered long ago.

My skin is patchwork veins, open wounds, and I cannot keep my tongue from lolling out. Spitting, screaming, it has a will all its own.

My mind should be compared to drops of rain, pattering to the ground at random interludes of cloud and sky.

Because, like them, my thoughts fly and fall at random, never striking the same spot twice.

My feelings are composed of watercolors, bleeding into each other, until even the ignorant child who mixed them cannot tell the red from the green.

[2013]

I don’t know if I personally like this one too much. I just found it in an old journal and I added a little to the beginning