Muse |
Muse |
Brave the cold, Shoulders up; On my guard. Heavy step on every exhale, a Puff of smoke escapes my lips in a flurry. Trench coat, with vampire blinkers On both sides, Cowering in the eye; Shadow or blood clot? Dizziness swells as the temperature drops, Fizziness in a nose-tickle; The air goes on the lungs. Vacant pavement Parallels to the halo on the horizon, Slowly hiding behind the line of houses, Their roofs a dark tile, Glistening slightly of the Diluted black watercolour that Looms as a vast blotch On a wasted canvas. No comfort, All progress lost and shut out; Thick blinds and curtains Damp out the frost. Smiles formed on a crystalline window, Its pane quite apparent in patterns; The lattice work of dirt. Extending fingers to a flowered palm, Blooming in rough lace, The inside obscured. Take pity on me in my plum coat. Purple dye. Gothic hide. My last breath all out in A sigh, the life visible In the void, a moment’s ghost Glimpsing the other side. It rises again, And again, And gone. Thin thoughts remember naught. On I trudge, to endure those Shadows once more. Originally written in 2013, age 17
0 Comments
|
AuthorSamantha is a doctoral researcher researching the power of figurative language in advertising, social media, and mobile technology. Copyright © 2022
Categories
All
Archives
June 2022
|