She left the backbone in the backyard
and her spine under the pine tree,
where no one would find it
even in the hazy midnight gleam.
He seemed happy in leaving her
before the sun woke up,
feeling the touch of bed-woven
skin with rough train chassis,
perfectly indifferent to the bending
of neck skin & unwashed Indian hair.
They both thought:
why does betrayal smell so good
under dirty clothes and slicked-back emotions.
She blends well with the convenience
-type crowd,
a dedicated smoker with secrets to tell,
and she loves it when they throw
stony comments at her.
He goes better with morning coffee,
and slowly stirring in the cream.
No sugar, and no sweetness besides
the chocolate he eats at lunch.
They said the world is held
delicately in mistakes of others,
but not of their own.
Because wise, important people
never falter on the word: "love".
She left her backbone behind his couch,
and his spine next to the petty parade
where empty fellows gather
around the lunch table
to cry about dimes
and broken guitar strings.
She left her snowflakes
and fall leaves where
only ominous black holes
lurk.
And only sometimes she wonders
if the ledge-smokers are right,
that deserving something better
and being able to make someone better
are two completely different stars,
in two completely opposite galaxies.
Author notes
Sorry it's a bit long.
A contest entry
- I lost my voice as the stars began to contort. by PaintedParisPassion.
400 points, ended December 3, 31 entries
• next poem in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
Comments
-
It's been a long time since I have read any of your work; and like I remember being, I am speechless. Your language is intense and style is unique. Love it.
-
...and her voice fell not only wondrous but out loud...
and... if you jumped up and down for a lifetime... upon S.E. Hinton's 1st book... over and over again... until its tired bindings crumbled like dirt... you would be left with sentiments similar... "Maybe the two different worlds we lived in weren't so different. We saw the same sunset."... I think this wondrous.
-
It sounds like your time with T. That's what I thought of anyway. I could be wrong. You come up with the best lines:
"She blends well with the convenience...stony comments at her"
--my favourite stanza. I felt this was a bit different from your usual work, I mean still as good but the voice was different. It was more storytelling and the realness was different but still ... real. I can't write or comment anymore
I don't know what I'm trying to say but I like this piece, like I like all yours, and you. It seems like you are stuck somewhere and breaking free of the habits is only impossible like the dreams. Or something like that. We all find comfort in the familiar, even if it's not the happiest. Even when it's not the right place you should be but are and almost as if, plan to be, as something better seems to far out of reach and well,
why bother when it never seems to get any closer?
I've almost confused myself.
Adding your comment:
