The night's ink drains away into beryl porcelain,
cool and smooth like a sheet of ice.
Anger flickers in my breast like an undecided flame
ready to be extinguished at the softest word.
It occurs to me much more lately...
while my cramped hands work nervously,
or while I'm sobbing silent hysterics into my pillow...
that I am incomplete...
A forgotten project, an empty page,
or those Lima beans that you hide in your mashed potatoes
because they aren't worth eating by themselves.
I want to run somewhere, but I haven't any legs.
How does one break an invisible chain?
I cannot see the links that form my tether.
I cannot feel the hands that hold me back.
I only know that I'm screaming a soundless scream.
The night's ink drains away into beryl porcelain,
cool and smooth like a sheet of ice.
Anger flickers in my breast like an undecided flame
ready to be extinguished at the softest word.
How I'd love to fan the subdued spark into something more,
but I'm afraid to burn the house down.
Comments
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This piece was amazing. Your words are very tense and I loved the similes you used with the lima beam.
Apart from the fantastic quality of your work, if this poem describes how you currently feel, I hope it passes quickly
Also dear sister, I think I like this side of your poetry. It is true with me that I write my best poetry when I am down and out. Well, many hugs and kisses to you. If you need to just blow some steam, I'll go and get my fire extinguisher and you can meet me over here
Love Ya
Carrie
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This made me sad I hope that you are doing okay I think of you often don't hide the Lima beans they are good for you
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