Nowhere to hide from the
Onslaught of reintegration
The past overtakes the present
As I float in tides of ephemeral retention
Sorting through the falsehoods
Entangled with this technicolor storybook
I’ve been forced to read aloud once again
Nowhere to hide when the storm
Originates inside
In my feeble attempt to steel my nerves
I brace against the tent of blankets and sheets
Sheltering me
From the constant flow of emotion
Threatening to invert my body and soul
Wring these memories
From my mind
Nowhere to hide from the last word
Echoing on with bone-shattering intensity
Vibrations slicing pages from my
Threadbare binding
Leaving two worn covers and a
pile of confetti
Bury your expectations in certitude
K. B. Silver
About the Creator
K.B. Silver
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.
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CH 19~ Picking Through the Remains
After a trip like this, there would usually be a few days of traveling time to think things through and decompress. Instead, everyone congregated, Ginny and Neisha cast the spells, and the group was whisked away from whence they came. Francine knew to expect things to be in a possible state of disarray when they arrived home, but she was still slapped in the face by the stack of crates in the atrium and jumped as Azure bellowed from behind her:
By K.B. Silver Exclusive • 5 days ago
Comments (4)
Shewww this one feels like shaking my fist at a storm. I really loved the imagery of threadbare binding and piles of confetti :)
Oh wow, I feel you nailed this challenge so brilliantly! It was so raw, intense, and poignant. Loved it!
This feels like being trapped inside a mind during its most honest moment. The imagery of memory as something physical, almost violent, really stayed with me.
Lots of things to think about in your words