vicarious trauma
By london_calling79
- 1995 reads
i used to be able to repair myself
sprout phantom limbs
better versions
now, i flick rocks at the faultlines
and the whole thing caves
it starts in my head
as a blossom
a soft-budded explosion
of inferred stem
an infinity of cherry petal
and ends as distant thunder
in the chewed through
butter morning
it’s not melodrama
not violins, self hate
and scars raked down lengths of arm
it’s just me, stasis
and a window i see nothing through
don’t think about it
he says
well, teach me not to think
to disinvent the future
disregard inkblot stains
on white shark tooth pages
you think you carry such a weight
he says let go
i ask how?
nobody writes about that part.
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Comments
A great description of the
A great description of the human condition. We can’t let go and can’t make things better - but we can write and share, it helps to know we’re not alone in this. Fabulous imagery, love butter morning especially.
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Like philip says - sometimes
Like philip says - sometimes I find your imagery a bit too cryptic, but this one's spot on. I particularly like the second stanza. Do you definitely mean inferred? (I was just wondering if it mght be an auto correct for infra red which would also fit)
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lower case and minimum punctuation
Good! I also write poetry only in lowercase and absolute minimum punctuation. People might think it looks funny but it works very well and for a few reasons.
&& Nolan
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I liked the cherry blossom
I liked the cherry blossom stanza very much, too.
This is how I feel about not being able to sleep and people saying "You need to relax, stop thinking. Get some scented candles" GRRrrr
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sprout phantom limbs, flick
sprout phantom limbs, flick rocks at the faultlines, butter morning, white shark tooth pages, loads of gorgeous word combinations to appreciate here and a strong projection of feeling. very talented at what you do
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