Still Not Waving
An Homage to Stevie Smith
Stuck in the space between
Where things are heard, not seen
Broken, with a price called free
Got lost in the entropy.
Found my role in a tragedy,
Treat it like its a comedy.
I wish that I could just be;
I wish that I could flee.
Cause I'm not waving,
I'm drowning.
I'm not flying,
Just falling.
About the Creator
The Omnichromiter
I write stories like spells—soft at the edges, sharp underneath. My poems are curses in lace, lullabies that bite back. I don’t believe in happily ever after. I believe in survival, transformation; in burning and blooming at the same time.
Keep reading
More stories from The Omnichromiter and writers in Poets and other communities.
🅼🅸🅳🅽🅸🅶🅷🆃 🆂🅽🅰🅲🅺🆂
"It's 10 in Tuscon! We all know what that means... It's Time for Midnight Snacks with your man, Gerald Gee! Ready to spend the night together? Me too! I'm full of snacks and can't wait to regurgitate them all back into your hungry ears. Crack a brew! Pop some corn! Anything to get ready for one hell of a show where the talk maybe cheap but the words cut deep...
By Lamar Wigginsabout 17 hours ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.