I run my fingertips
across the page.
Lose myself in
the inky blankness.
The pulp, of each
aromatically
fresh page,
leaves marks,
(invisible),
scars on my skin.
And I breathe.
(in)
And I'm numb.
(out)
My thoughts seem disconnected;
lost inside their futility.
The words are lost;
swallowed by their own importance.
Dreams appear
(phantoms)
Sent to burn my eyes.
And I breathe.
(in)
And I'm numb.
(out)
I can't find my shadow
in the dark.
But the sun
will not hide my face.
How I long for
twilight.
And I breathe.
(in)
And I'm numb.
(again)
Author notes
#2
A contest entry
- Only Isolation by Swamp Thing.
600 points, ended March 14, 11 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
BEAUTIFUL...
THIS IS A BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF WORK. I ENJOYED FEASTING MY EYES ON YOUR POETRY...I ESPECIALLY LIKED THE LINES:
"And I breathe.
(in)
And I'm numb.
(again)"
THEY SOUNDED LIKE SOME SORT OF A CHORUS OR HOOK WHEN RECITING IT INFRONT OF A NUMBER OF PEOPLE....SHALOM
-
This was very interesting to me. You actually made me think of Braille (when you refer of reading the pages with your finger tips). This was written very well, and I thought you did a good job writing it. I really enjoyed the lines:
"And I breathe.
(in)
And I'm numb.
(out)"
that just sounded so cool! Well good luck to you in the contest, keep up the writes.
~~Tori~~
-
Very nice
I like this poem. You did a very nice job of transferring feelings of solitude to the reader. The writing style of this poem was quite interesting and works very well in this situation. I especially found this poem appealing because the speaker seems to be longing for more, yet, expecting less. Very nice job and I appreciate your entry into my contest.
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