Photo by Jakayla Toney on Unsplash
Steps like breaths, light but haggard on my body
Tongue raw from the dusty silk, unwilling fed.
Cigar smoke? No, the perfume again, like flowers suffocated in books.
Shadows—not made from light, tread the same path through veins.
And the stories, finite moments told over and over, with the same ending.
About the Creator
K. Kocheryan
I write, delete, write, and on most days, delete again.
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Comments (4)
Like flowers suffocated in books was my favorite but there were so many great lines like Shadows not made from light
love this poem
Your poem expresses an extraordinary experience with depth and sensitivity. The metaphor "steps like breaths" evokes a sense of physical exhaustion and fragility, immediately placing me in an emotional state. The image of a dusty silk tongue reflects reluctance and helplessness, suggesting that the sweetness of life is sometimes hidden among bitter experiences. 😔 The contrast between the cigar smoke and the fragrance of flowers choking in books reveals a profound emotional conflict. The meaning of "shadows—created not by light" is rich, illustrating the complexities of life and unacknowledged emotions. 🌫️ Finally, the stories of limited moments told repeatedly point to a permanent truth, where we all face the same end. This poem is thought-provoking, deep, and relevant, effectively illuminating the variety and continuity of life's experiences. You have truly created something unique. ✨
Love the eerie feeling here. That picture is perfect, too. Well done!