sad poetry
The cathartic nature of poetry makes it one of the best outlets to channel feelings of sadness, emotional turmoil, grief and despair.
Sediment
I can feel the rot in my body starting. I’ve been sedentary too long today, and I know it will only spread to my lungs. The branches I see from my window strike a stick-thin silhouette against the white sky. I belong with them—spindly and rooted. It would take far too much effort now to uproot myself and shake off this creeping mold and make something of myself today. I am ballast. I am corroded. I am a heavy stasis. A tree rarely falls unless some force unearths it, and no such force is coming for me. I settle deeper into the decaying sediment of myself.
By Cecile Randall2 months ago in Poets
Midwinter
Winter sinks its teeth into my skin, burrows into my bones and makes a home for itself. There are few moments where I feel more alone than when I am walking, frigid and shivering, my breath coalescing in the air before me, reminiscent of smoke from an old man’s pipe; but I am not yet old, and I do not smoke, and despite my life still winding before me I feel aged and heartless and alone. Today I empathize with snowflakes caught in a hibernal spider’s web, which should have had longer to tilt their crystalline arms to the sky and twirl and laugh.
By Cecile Randall2 months ago in Poets
The Old Woman and the Upside-Down World
The Old Woman and the Upside-Down World She woke late, her body heavy with illness, the kind that even makes breathing feel like labor. The holiday had passed quietly, but its ache arrived late, creeping into her morning like a shadow.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 months ago in Poets
