They laid me to sleep
in a coffin made of glass
lined with velvet apologies
thinking I'd dream of oceans
or forgiveness
or that one perfect nectarine
I'd dropped in 2003.
The ceiling shattered
while a symphony played
... wolves chasing Peter,
and me.
They chewed on my ankle -
wearing a voice that once prayed for me.
My nerves bloomed bruises.
My hands turned to questions,
tossing runes to the laughing sky
that held no answers.
My skin peeled,
old wall paper from worn bones,
regret curling
smoke above untended altars.
This is what it must mean
to be haunted by your own heartbeat,
to taste rust on your tongue,
with feet that remember
what a mind will not admit.
Love letters delivered in salt,
signed in static,
that simply read
"Persephone,
come home."
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
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More stories from Ellie Hoovs and writers in Poets and other communities.
Thoughts on Vocal and the way the world is
"Death cannot stop true love, only delay it." – Wesley in The Princess Bride. I decided to come back to Vocal on a very cold and dark night at the end of December. I had been, and still am, convalescing from a horrible staph infection that had gone misdiagnosed for months. This, paired with the increasing challenges of being healthy, making the best choices for my co-parented child, being a wife, and being a director at a new job, was a lot to manage.
By Jazzy 2 days ago in Confessions
Comments (3)
Ellie, without doubt or hesitation, this is absolutely one of my favorite poems I've ever seen on Vocal. Beautifully haunting, reaching right into the soul!
This is such a vivid and haunting piece—BEAUTIFULLY surreal! I really admire how you’ve woven memory, myth, and emotion together so seamlessly. As someone who loves Greek mythology and all things fantasy and ethereal, lines like “my hands turned to questions, tossing runes to the laughing sky” and that final “Persephone, come home” truly showcase how picturesque and evocative your use of language is. It really does read like a haunting dream that lingers long after waking. I’m genuinely touched that a word I shared could play a part in inspiring something this powerful. BEAUTIFUL 🤌🤌🤌🌹
Wonderful creation