The wind is whipping my face out the passenger’s window,
and every milligram missing is filled in again
with her complexion.
I cannot stop this from happening,
but I’m not holding on tight enough to the seat,
am I?
I’m easy enough to replace,
but has it ever torn my being into
this black and white confetti?
That’s what I’m reduced to,
sopping wet, begging to be played with
Confetti.
I can’t ease myself into a Christmas box,
because I’m too busy flying down the highway
getting hit by traffic
and bugs.
I can feel her taking over my legs,
the only thing that is mine, left in your vehicle.
Get her grimy,
too perfect hands off of them.
Her smile,
my legs.
Her laugh,
my feet.
Now she’s been where we have.
Walking the beach,
into a physic’s lair who told me
not to get too close.
You’re not my one.
But did she know
how stuck I was, and still am
to you?
How,
no matter what,
I’d fight to keep you by my side?
Everyday, in and out of the same
arguments
I stayed.
And now it is over.
Her face.
Her lovely dyed hair,
pretty personality
and
“I didn’t get a chance to tell her goodbye…”
sniffles.
I could never compare.
As my skin flecks ripple and float
down,
down to the asphalt,
remember that it was me
who stood beside you
and it was you,
who kept me sane.
She may hold your everything,
and she may take that spot between
your shoulder and head; my spot.
The one thing she can never have
Is the heart you sewed into a fluffy chest,
[metaphorically, yours]
And every smile you ever shined in my direction.
Give me up,
I know it’s time.
Her torso is in your passenger’s seat,
and by now
her hand is in your lap.
Author notes
Actually posting something the same day I wrote it, wow.
The whole thought behind this, was that you could picture a boy driving [or maybe your best friend] and they open the window, and you start falling out. As each flake of your body is leaving, another person is forming in your exact same spot.
The only thing is, your legs and feet stay. So it is like that person is taking over your spot the EXACT way that you left it.
The driver has no idea, but you are freaking out.
Yeah...
all in my head.
Ask, and I will try to go into more depth.
And yes, the last line is a sexual reference.
Zach, I'd love to have you around right now.
I miss you, and I think you could help me with this.
----
I do believe this fits into prompt one, seeing as I was crazy when I wrote it. Also, the only thing that was betrayed was my mental state...
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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Umm, wow, words can not describe.
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Thank you.
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A very interesting analogy. The imagery is very well done. Best wishes and thank you for entering.
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That is super intense. I love your analogy! Very vivid and slightly haunting. Goodness gracious, you're impressive.
"That’s what I’m reduced to,
sopping wet, begging to be played with
Confetti." <-- favourite stanza. Well, and the one about "between your shoulder and your head; my spot".
Marvelous.
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This is incredibly visual, and it's executed very well. I can empathize with the feeling to an extent and certainly hope writing helps, because I'm already a fan and would like to see more.
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I know what the poem's about
I just wish I knew what was wrong
still a GREAT write
you're incredible.
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There's so much to say.
And I have no idea how to say it anymore.
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I kind of doubt you know what's up with me right now.
Only one person does, and yeah...
Thanks though. -
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Never said I knew anything.
I know that I don't.
I meant, everything in general. Not this situation in particular.
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