Every day I lament the shape your heart turned into. The way smooth edges decayed into jagged shards, and I could do nothing save for slashing open my naivety on the coarse exterior.
Every moment of my supposedly disposable existence brings back memories of you and your one-bullet gun. How you shot me just to escape the temptation of pressing the barrel to your own head. How you watched me bleed red to avoid seeing black.
Every word is an attempt to show the world just how many pieces you broke me into - just how little you cared when you left them scattered.
I am all ice walls and survival trophies, trying to evict you in the way you exorcised me, but I could never manage such callousness.
This is my lantern floating heavenward, my message disintegrating in a bottle. This is me, realising moving on is still worth celebrating over a year later.
This is the discovery that letting go means more when you have fought for it with every breath.
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Reminder: Only five days left to submit your entries for Poppy’s Prompts #3.
About the Creator
Poppy
poetry in progress
Violence Begets
"Any last words, cowboy?" "None you'd understand, sodbuster." "Funny. That's Marshall Sodbuster to you. But I meant some last nugget that would help us in the adjudication of the myriad offenses counted against you and your gang. I wasn't asking for penitence."
By Adam Diehl5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (12)
You deserve the survival trophies. And also, the melting of ice.
So heartbreaking… ‘I am all ice walls and survival trophies, trying to evict you in the way you exorcised me, but I could never manage such callousness… This is me, realised moving on is still worth celebrating over a year later.‘ Don’t give up!
The pain expressed in this piece is heart breaking, but you make it seem like a beautiful portrait.
This was so intense, poignant and relatable. But I still struggle with letting go.
💔
Poppy, I can almost hear this as a bridge in a song. Loved it!! 🤍
"...memories of you and your one-bullet gun. How you shot me just to escape the temptation of pressing the barrel to your own head. How you watched me bleed red to avoid seeing black." Wow, did I feel this, Poppy.
Lots of vivid imagery in this one. "I am all ice walls and survival trophies" stands out to me, but certainly not the only strong point in the poem. Well done!
Boldly & beautifully crafted with melancholy and pain!!! Bravo, Poppy!!!💕❤️❤️
Powerfully moving. Brillant!
Brilliant piece! Love it!
Magnificent! This is so poetic and riddled with pain. So many striking parts but my favorites were “How you watched me bleed red to avoid seeing black”, “my message disintegrating in a bottle” and the last sentence! Really brilliant