I mix the faces up and try to piece
together things that do not belong,
tied by invisible strings
that are woven too tightly together –
so we write,
I write and desperately try
to remember all that I have
forgot – there is too much unsaid,
too much undone
and I feel the weights drowning me
most moments are kept in light
and you fleet
through my mind on the back
of butterfly wings, you were always nature
to my hidden caves
and I always wanted to be something
that you were proud of
as if simply being
weren’t enough – but it was never
your bonds placed upon me
it was tubes tied together
suffocating myself while making me
need to prove even the simplest
addition facts
and still I breathed in,
held your scent in the palms
of calloused hands,
hands that look too much like yours
In a list
A contest entry
- the precocious rounds; round one. by stasis.
1750 points, ended November 22, 14 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Title: 16/20
Creativity: 19/20
Grammar: 20/20
Relation to Prompt: 20/20
Overall Reaction: 18/20
Total: 93 -
Title: 17/20 - I would have liked to see something a little different, not so similar to the prompt.
Creativity: 20/20
Grammar: 20/20
Relation to Prompt: 20/20
Overall Reaction: 19/20
Total: 96
Amazing -
remembering things that matter so much, and the feelings change with time and growth, always fundamental, but always seen in a new light...a new day... excellent...PK
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that last stanza, where it's at babe. callous. callous. i fucking love that word too much.
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"as if simply being
...
hands that look too much like yours"
poetry.
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You are lovely beyond words, Scribe. Good luck in the contest, Sweetie. 
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