The quivering embers litter the floor
The dying hues give way
Flowing parallel with blues
Old news plasters the walls
Thoughts akin to paper mache
A paper heart is dry, brittle, and overused
Halls, emptied, and fleeting
Misleading doors nailed shut
My mind starts to push back, decreeing
Quivering embers little the floor
They become ash
A sigh
No more
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Author:
Samoht (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 29th, 2024 22:00
- Comment from author about the poem: A lot of the things I've written so far are a collection of my feelings revolving around the end of a relationship. A mixture of turmoil, intrusive thoughts and the rollercoaster of emotions that one has to ride until now. The heart is crazy. The brain is crazier. I wrote this as an ode to the next step(s) once the rollercoaster has slowed and I'm finally to get off. Although my legs are wobbly and I'm still a little disorientated, I'm ready to catch my breath and move on.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
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