Sunday, March 20, 2011

A Sneeze in Wet Mascara

A reckless game of impulse;
I play so I can feel.
Irreversibly careless,
Irrespectively, I deal.

A cruel, illicit rainstorm,
provided shelter from the void.
Rebel thoughts assembled,
a fertile land destroyed.

The pretense of autonomy,
shunned feelings hurt in vain
A vacuum of sound judgment,
care of my comrade, pain.

A borscht of raw emotion,
simmered sternly in the silence.
A slap of cold perception,
incited aptly crafted violence.

Clinging to the menace,
of that richly textured beast.
My fragile state determined,
once caged, is now unleashed.

A crowd of avid tourists,
took pictures of the scene.
The peril of compulsion
made them feel pearly clean.

The weight of shame unyielding,
a burden of my youth.
Precariously drinking
the inconsolable truth.

No comments:

Post a Comment