She is wasting away Folding into herself Both wrists smiling crimson with the sunrise She whispers goodnight to the darkness To the empty bed that speaks too much of her future But her bones… They won’t be still They creep out of their closets and seep through her skin They tumble into her mouth and tell strangers her secrets She tells them how she crumbles in silence How she cries sometimes at the sight of a new day She is exhausted with the struggle to breathe to live instead of existing to love when it hurts She- A broken levee with her heart gutted like corpse A Y tattooed into her chest She- A love poem without a poet around to write her down so she pours out metaphors in her sleep praying the devil won’t hear them She doesn’t want him as an audience to her life because he is so judgmental to her faults And, sometimes, that makes her second guess her skin Which makes her feel sinful since she is questioning the way God made her But if He wanted her to be different, why didn’t He make her different? Why make her so prone to madness? Why make her so easy to bleed? Why make next breath and desire to live so hard to reach? Why give her dreams that can’t manifest? Most days, it all seems so senseless A relentless voyage to emptiness and mortality And the only time she gets a peek at immortality is through her pen So despite the death that haunts her waking moments, she breathes through ink through page All in an attempt to not let her hopes waste away So she fights through prose, love, madness and glimpses of sanity just to make it through another day in this world of lost souls and humanity It is her best attempt at survival and living #waste #mortality #immortality #yeyodapoet #melanieyeyocarter #anticsofapoet #diaryofadayumpoet
0 Comments
|
Author"I was blessed with the ability to make ugly look pretty. This is my superpower." Archives
September 2022
Categories
All
|