Straining my ears
wanting to hear your pleas for help.
When they never come,
I'll go home
I swear I could save you
My wings are, oh, so...
thick
[[But you never wanted saving....]]
When you just watched me in mock horror
For I was loosing touch with myself
Pull me up and out Honey,
I owe you that much
Breaking brittle bonds,
Flushed faces proved to never be reliable
I kept chasing cries of my own heart
(Praying they were yours)
When did they stop staring?
When did we stop caring?
Author notes
I really have no idea, My mind comes up with the weirdest stuff
I guess its why I love Sylvia Plath =P
A contest entry
- The Title Is... by zillion.
300 points, ended March 20, 2007, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Have Fun! by KissMeGoodnight.
490 points, ended March 23, 2007, 28 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Your 2 cents on this total shit....
Comments
-
oo, poweful i like. good luck
-
wow, this is very powerful,
i like the layout
brill
-
Sylvia Path huh? Well I won't pretend to be an expert on her, but I have read a few of her works and her talent is way beyond mine.
The cool thing about poetry, is being able to fight/convince yourself of something, through words, without sounding like a Schizophrenic weirdo. This poem is a prime example of that. I felt a little tension, as well as a slight arguement, between guilt/holding on and moving on. Something that I think we all struggle with at some point in time. Unfortunatly, sometimes it never goes away. -
this is really good
i love it! slyvia plath is good
tho i've never read it
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