there in your brain
it starts to flower again
though you pulled it out
once and for all.
but it has spread like a tumor,
malignant, fast, and terminal,
and there's nothing you can do but succumb.
you try to burn it
but it grows back,
and you rip it to pieces
but it is suddenly whole.
like any weed,
you have to pull out the roots
to the very last fibre
before it will stay away for good.
Author notes
And then when you try to stop thinking about it you think about it more. It's a vicious cycle and only time can make it go away or maybe not giving yourself grief about it.
How can I improve this?
Comments
-
you are talented at conveying exactly what you're writing about with sharp accuracy; and there's nothing better when I'm able to connect with the poem. :]
as far as critiquing goes, I think that sticking with the weed/plant/flower metaphor might've been stronger than switching temporarily to the tick/dog metaphor, although both metaphors were very well-written.
other than that, this is a strong write, and my favorite part was the beginning.
-
-
Thanks! I wasn't sure about the tick/dog metaphor, I like it but I think you're right, it doesn't really fit.
-
Adding your comment:
