04-30-2017, 05:59 AM
Hi!
The poem seems nice - it feels like a small-town to city thing, which is an experience worth writing about.
I am sitting on the roof as the morning stretches blue sleep away and drags "Stretches blue sleep" feels incoherent, no sight or sound in my head
a red velvet across its shoulders. Everything is smaller than me. I finger the
brick, red and raw like dried blood but it is far. Escape from an unhappy home/bad relationship? A dull knife, should sharpen.
I am becoming. Girl as city. Not a fan of the visual form here, with the spacing and all. Not a good centerpiece.
There are lights. Tarps in windows, curling plants. Streets have cars missing
like teeth, those already gone off to work or those who haven't come home
yet. There is a wind that tussles my hair like his hand. Donuts are being sprinkled, "Donuts are being sprinkled, shower..." - Seems like a bad sex joke
shower curtains drawn back. I am shuddering - not from the cold but from the
hum in my chest. An old song, dizzy in my head, plays; An old man singing from "Dizzy in my head" - how is the song dizzy?
a mountain to his heart, lost somewhere in the town below
"I am here and it's okay, you can forget about me" A pretty end
Like the packaging, but you might want to consider hammering out the lumps.
Write on!
The poem seems nice - it feels like a small-town to city thing, which is an experience worth writing about.
I am sitting on the roof as the morning stretches blue sleep away and drags "Stretches blue sleep" feels incoherent, no sight or sound in my head
a red velvet across its shoulders. Everything is smaller than me. I finger the
brick, red and raw like dried blood but it is far. Escape from an unhappy home/bad relationship? A dull knife, should sharpen.
I am becoming. Girl as city. Not a fan of the visual form here, with the spacing and all. Not a good centerpiece.
There are lights. Tarps in windows, curling plants. Streets have cars missing
like teeth, those already gone off to work or those who haven't come home
yet. There is a wind that tussles my hair like his hand. Donuts are being sprinkled, "Donuts are being sprinkled, shower..." - Seems like a bad sex joke
shower curtains drawn back. I am shuddering - not from the cold but from the
hum in my chest. An old song, dizzy in my head, plays; An old man singing from "Dizzy in my head" - how is the song dizzy?
a mountain to his heart, lost somewhere in the town below
"I am here and it's okay, you can forget about me" A pretty end
Like the packaging, but you might want to consider hammering out the lumps.
Write on!
The Chronicles of Lethargia