symmetry
if only
I could figure out your eyes
through division
then maybe I could
grasp
the color green
as firmly
as the hair on
the back of your head.
reaching you
is like cupping a wave
in two hands
all you get
is a bit of possibility
clinging like sticky jellyfish
despite the sting
time grew out
of its old socks
and left us barefoot
chasing it like trains
with skinned knees
forgetting to look
both ways
because death had become
a dream,
a place wondered about
on countless nights
when the stars
would resemble fingertips
and the moon
one giant reflection
where I could sit
and meet your stare
reading your
subconscious
knowing
that soon I'll feel you
behind my door
like darkness
to cover my body
so we can speak
about our true forms
and
hear the axe fall
in lust
don't lose shape,
you are more than the
heavy crowns that dangle
from your neck
making your stomach
curve inwards
like an emaciated cave
burying secrets
that will only come to rot
where the water lies
and eats
at the floor
know
that you left me warmer
and a little less
insecure
knowing that I could twist arrows
changing the direction
of their aim
Author notes
setting fire to your house
In a list
A contest entry
- when it happens by Melissa Gayle.
1000 points, ended October 21, 2008, 17 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
critiques are always nice
Comments
1 - 22 of 22
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:|...I read your writing...and I am like...wow, again...they are beautiful in a weird way
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i never said thank you, so thank you love
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my God! seriously... you make me cry these days, i love you honey bunny!
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as I read I think how wonderul this is. The words, the emotion, the reality of it all -
and then I get to the end and I wonder if your happiness has ceased and if its real. Though the lesson and the idea of less insecurity is wonderful -
did they not see what they had right in front of them?
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your perspective on my poetry is amazing
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Excuse me while I just leave these...
Effing fantastic...
♥Becky♥
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I will not repeat was has already been repeated, as it would be a waste of time.
A precious gift that is taken back each second until we meet our untimely death
which is only a mound of regrets of what I didn't...or you didn't do. Symmetry...
there is an equality in that, and I just saw the beauty in every flaw. Does they
consist of biased and lusty thoughts...or are we truly real people with sunken eyes
and protruding bellies like an unwelcomed guest? I adore this piece, as all your others.
There is no fear of emotions or flaws or the reality that eventually we crumble away
like dust or something less poetic in the wind.
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so, you show your true form
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I won't quote yourself back to you, it hardly seems worth it, I might as well write out the whole damn thing. I am very glad to have become acquainted with your work. It is seamless. I'd love to know how you do it, not to copy your "ritual" or whatever because the results would never be the same quality, just out of curiosity. Does it just...flow out of you? Do you spend a lot of time thinking about it or changing it?
Well anyway, I think I'm going to throw a lot of applause your way over the next few days.
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don't lose shape,
you are more than the
heavy crowns that dangle
from your neck
making your stomach
curve inwards
like an emaciated cave
burying secrets
that will only come to rot
where the water lies
and eats
at the floor ...
this piece is a favorite of mine ... the images that conjure up in that mind of mine say so ... good luck in the contest ...
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this is excellent...I think of facial symmetry when I read this...
I love the sock part & the last stanza - beautiful
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bloody amazing.
almost feels like you know something about me.
I hope you're no stalker.
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your imagery is great
all over the place,
but pretty genius
also
i put you on my favorites a while ago, and i enjoy reading your stuff but every time i do i feel like your overall message is hard to decipher...
but that's probably because i'm too lazy to re-read more than once
-cassidy
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thanks babe, sorry i trip you up lol
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love you b.f.
i can hear the twang of the arrow as it hits the bulls eye.
fucking inspirational.
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<3333333333333333
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It's perfect. The emotions in this poem are so real. The only thing I would suggest is to change the "it's" in the second stanza to "its". But hey, a little *poetic license* never hurt. =]
My favorite part is
"and the moon
one giant reflection
where I could sit
and meet your stare
reading your
subconscious
knowing
that soon I'll feel you
behind my door
like darkness
to cover my body
so we can speak
about our true forms
and
hear the axe fall
in lust"
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thank you so much <3
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i think i cherish your poems a lot more when i don't know when another one will get posted. i cling to them and reread them more and feel compelled to dissect every little chamber in the words. i really love this.
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i love you.
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