It's always hanging across the frame of her bedroom door,
trying so desperately to take her breath away.
Memories are the only thing she has left that can cut her
worse than she would have tortured herself.
So she tries to keep her head down,
ditch the cold air for warm blankets,
and smother what she should be keeping alive.
It's not always best to remember the color of his eyes,
and the way his arms felt like when you had a home.
And your mom smiled because she knew what it was like to be in love.
He's in the air
and I don't want to breathe too deep
because I don't want to watch him disappear.
Not again.
Author notes
Title from Winter Song by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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wow
i can feel the emotion, raw and jagged, cutting through the words. It was put beautifully. Im really impressed with this poem.
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Memories are the only thing she has left that can cut her
worse than she would have tortured herself.
-i really don't like this. i don't think it is very strong or has emotiove language. seriously, you are too good for those two lines.
and smother what she should be keeping alive.
-like this. this is sooooooo much better i'm not even shitting you. freaking great.
and the way his arms felt like when you had a home
-the tenses here are a little confusing. maybe 'felt like the time you had a home'.
And your mom smiled because she knew what it was like to be in love.
-that works so well. i love the way you haven't used a comma but a period after the previous line. it just holds this extra punch.
really good ending too. visually envigorating like wisps of smoke.
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