My mind does not work in dialogues.
It slinks through tangents and mispronounced anecdotes,
like a forlorn seabird in dense fog.
My mouth does not say words.
It hops from each utterance with no end in sight,
like a wistful warbler in a raging storm.
My hands do not hold on.
They slip over textures and tap erratic Morse code upon fractured panes.
Like a tactless raven with a dull stone.
My heart knows only measure.
It aches from self-imposed retributions,
like the abandoned parakeet with no more feathers.
About the Creator
Kit Val
I have always been fond of the human condition.
If You Love Me, You'll Do It
I met Jason when I was five years old. I could say that I loved him from the moment I saw him. He was so handsome to me and I felt in awe by his presence. When they introduced him as the new kid in school, I wanted to be his friend right away. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember his smile and how he didn't seem shy. He appeared confident and ready to learn. I waved at him and said "hello," before anyone else could even say a word. He sat next to me, and I asked him if he wanted to be friends. He looked so happy as he said, "Yes!"
By Sidney Smith (Sid Smith)8 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Just so evocative with the bird comparisons and the "My heart knows only measure" subversion. Excellent!
This was so poignant and relatable. Loved your poem!