everything looks different during the day
less shadows, more hope in your blue eyes
mixed with mine –
lush greenery overwhelming ordinary storefronts;
broken trees symbolise
lost connections amidst the worst of times
moisture mostly remained
on the slippery ground beneath me
where quirky instability
gets in my face
requiring answers to questions
that have been asked for a long time
for which I had to find
a tricky way to improvise
and although it doesn’t always look good in my eyes
you could have reversed all the bad luck
crawling at my door
and judging me from
the point of view of an unfulfilled outcome;
when the dust finally began to settle
I looked at myself with external eyes
and it was not a cheerful sight
abused to the extent of not wanting life
in any form from the former shape ;
the more I fight with the shadows that have suddenly stemmed
the less I move forward, and in my case
it’s like leaving the whole world
in a state of inextricable unknown
---
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About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where the wild roses grow full of words...
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When I am Queen
I was born of fire. I was quenched with fierce flame. I made love to seductive smoke. I rose up out of phoenix ash. I awoke in the arms of treachery and have survived past scorched earth. You cannot kill what you cannot burn. I have returned continuously and been reforged into renegade steel. You will live vicariously through me. I will return once again when I am sultana.
By Anna Torresabout 14 hours ago in Poets
Comments (1)
I have read this so many times over the last 24 hours, trying to decide what it means to me & how to respond. But it keeps on flipping over & turning me around--daylight allows things to appear more clearly to us, both in its wondrous lush beauty as well as in its brokenness & loss. But it's still tricky, slippery, begging questions for which I don't have the answers. You could have made a difference, perhaps, in how I view myself. I don't like what I see, or what life has become for me, but the more I try to figure it out the more stuck I become & the more inexplicable everything seems to me. Much like this poem. Precisely like me.