it’s so hard to see, my hard boiled mouth can only squeak
My eyes go wide open with fear
What are these bears doing here?
They like me, I like them,
We have fun.
It’s lonely to share a window with you,
I see the wispy trees, whipping against the violence of the storm
But I don’t cry,
No I don’t.
It’s only when the sun comes out
And the trees quiver and breathe like a green stalky person,
Shivering and leaking,
Frying pan sun, my scrambled eyes
Fall asleep
How does the dewy grass feel on your
Feet,
I feel something runny like yolk run down my plastic face
Is this a tear,
It slides down the window like rain.
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More stories from Melissa Ingoldsby and writers in Poets and other communities.
I am going to try and talk to you, and tell you how much I’m actually failing
I’m flailing like a crazy bird trying to swim, Wings clipped and mangled, Warped, strangled I am trying to find my own new way of breathing in the toxic plume of your overwhelming body aches,
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
Comments (8)
Wonderfully sad poem .
Wonderful!!! Loved it!!!
Wow, really great use of imagery with such beautiful word choices. I loved this line, 'Frying pan sun, my scrambled eyes'. Wonderful!
Brilliant usage of imageries, Merly! Loved this poem!
Love this. Your blend of imagery and emotions is awesome. 🥰
Love
Unique, luv the imagery.
Wow! This is so thought-provoking, and beautifully written.