My eyes reflect an endless sky,
Full of my clouds;
Gray walls buzzing with electricity,
Accumulating condensation.
Finally the downpour begins,
So I walk, stand, sit in the rain,
Drink it in,
And let it run down my face.
They say the eye is the window to the soul,
So I guess I’m in the window of the storm.
Images in glass, in lens,
Of dark and rain and flash and spirit.
The sun sets before midday;
A spectacular sight.
My eyes reflect an endless sky,
And the storm rages on.
About the Creator
Elisabeth Balmon
sometimes I write almond themed poetry
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Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts5 days ago in Longevity
Comments (2)
Beautiful
The vivid imagery, especially the phrase "Full of my clouds," captures the complexity of one's emotional sky, making the reader feel the intensity of the downpour within.