Icy gray fingers,
like early morning frozen fog
twirl my hair like puppet strings,
unboxing the blue
& broken
things.
They write doubt notes on the bathroom mirror
Condensation with filled with condescension
I cannot see myself
clearly
They tuck me in & urge me to rest
while they twirl my hair and dance in my
head
they pull me into this cloud-like world
everything here a shade of gray
like the dreary London winter sky.
Every voice here is a whisper or a shout -
far too quiet, or far too loud.
The soft ambiance here feels hard -
forced and fake
like a baker's show cake
where the inside is Styrofoam.
This place is full of scores of people
but we all feel all alone.
I shiver
as those icy gray fingers
twirl my hair 'til I forget it
all.
About the Creator
Ellie Hoovs
Breathing life into the lost and broken. Writes to mend what fire couldn't destroy. Poetry stitched from ashes, longing, and stubborn hope.
My Poetry Collection DEMORTALIZING is out now!!!: https://a.co/d/5fqwmEb
Keep reading
More stories from Ellie Hoovs and writers in Poets and other communities.
Volcanic, Verdant, and Very You
Let’s get one thing straight: Peridot isn’t just a gemstone. It’s a whole mood. The color of envy, abundance, grass-stained knees, summer’s last laugh, and the green spark of magic that lives under your skin when no one’s looking. Which makes it a perfect prompt for August - that bittersweet threshold between peak heat and first harvest, where we start turning inward while still dripping with sweat and sunscreen.
By Ellie HoovsExclusive • 5 months ago
Standing While Falling
Quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche "He who wrestles long with monsters should beware lest he himself become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. Man is not destroyed by suffering, but by the meaning he makes of it."
By LUCCIAN LAYTH6 days ago in Critique
Comments (2)
A fantastic read, thanks for sharing
So stunningly bleak, powerful work.