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revised bad poem, IN COLOR! |
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previous poem, revisited and redone, beware of it's badness[oh and i had fun with color wink ]
I walk along on a day that smells like grass and looks like rain, but feels like nothing I've ever known. fresh death in my nose, and clouds swelling in my eyes, i hear the wind go through trees and lawnmowers, hot, heavy drops of liquid fall to the pavement, splattering on the pavement like blood bursting from an artery, sympathetically I look up at the sky and tracethe veins in my wrist, feeling the blood pounding through them like the beat of drums i don't know. water falls on my face, and i don't know whether it comes from my pain or the storrm's, lightning flashes an thunder shakes something close, water pounds harder on dirt and cement, cut grass swirls around my feet in a small tide, for a second i wonder what the pink mingling with the grass is.then i look down, remove my thumb from my wrist, the flow trickles off, i press two fingers against it to staunch the blood and feel for the pulse, not as strong as it was, but still steady, same can be said of the rain, it no longer pummels me only casually sliding over and off of me, like the memories i must forget. just close your eyes, think of rain splashing on water, calm over taking all, it will be all right, i will be allright, everything will be fine if i just forget. no more pink mixing with green, yet i sink to my knees on the sidewalk and let my grief flow freely like the sky does, if i let it out it can't hurt me inside anymore,it willgo away and i won't have to remember the pain anymore. my heart beating fast from fear; no, this isn't what i wanted, i didn't ask for this, make this nightmare stop, please, why? and then i'm back kneeling on the pavement, hands gripping my knees, nails digging into my skin. please rain, wash my pain away, along with my blood and the cut grass, down the drain and far away from my mind. recollect myself, control my body if not my mind, move numbly out of the water that is stopping my screams, reach up and brush a tear off my face, it doesn't matter if it was rain, it was my tear.i ball my hands into fists, clenching them tightly, and biting my lips, when will this stop, i look up to the drenched oak leaves, when will it end? i sink down, back against the tree, and down to the ground, there's mud on my legs but i don't care, and then it's black. when i wake up it's not raining, the sign is shining deceptively bright, i get up brush myself, walk onto the same sidewalk and try to forget another day, a day that smelled like grass and felt like rain, but was just one more time i couldn't handle the pain.
grrrr the color didn't work
tanaquila · Thu Jul 28, 2005 @ 07:28pm · 0 Comments |
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