My eyes are focused on nothing in particular.
I part the air molecules
as they avoid wandering near my face,
while I walk my daily path.
Suffocating.
Oxygen and I are no longer friends.
Not even the late summer’s pleasurable heat
could come the smallest inch closer.
So I coat myself in a thick layer of lassitude
and it’s friction on my skin
is calming to the bitter icicles,
stabbing into my body.
I am moving for the sake of motion
and only speaking
for noise.
Looking to possibly dodge this harshness,
I stare straight down at the ground
and see the sands of time evaporating
before my unprotected eyes.
Figures.
What is there to do,
when the only things that keep you going
are morning nicotine and smokey clouds
that form moving pictures
inside of your mind?
All I can say is,
I really hope it doesn’t rain today.
Author notes
September 19, 2009... I take walks when I get sick of sitting around the house. Usually, I find no one to hang with.
I hate being alone.
AP username: A u t u m n s F l a m e
A contest entry
- Let these clenched fists open wide, to see where all the answers lie by whiterabbit..
1200 points, ended October 1, 28 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
PLEASE be HONEST when commenting my writing. Tell me I SUCK, if that's what you think.
Comments
-
I think you did quite well with this prompt. A little disclosure about what makes you you, woven into this pensive write. Well done.
-
I really like the last line, "I really hope it doesn't rain today". It's sort of like a contrast, but at the same time, not really. :]
Adding your comment:
