Vertigo

[emmavee]

I fall into strange arms on nights like these,
nights where the only thing more desolate than my vast emptiness
is the yawning sky.
Sepia moonlight does nothing to retouch memories
but even so, I drink in the soggy night like lemonade.
I used to keep to a strict diet of glowing blue words
before I became hungry
and learned you can replace almost anything with potato chips.

On nights like these I let the dizziness in
and pretend sloppy reality is enough to carry me through.
Blurry eyes see happiness everywhere, I tell myself,
falling asleep with that peaceful lie pressed against my chest.

When your smoky presence slips by me,
on nights like these,
I give in.
I pull out the tangled past and throw it over us like a quilt.
When you turn toward me, wispy, out of focus,
I pry your sleepy lids open with my cold fingers.
A million stars fall from your eggshell eyes
yet the sky has never been more black.

[fim]

I fall into strange arms on nights like these,
nights where the only thing more desolate than my vast emptiness
is the yawning sky.
Sepia moonlight does nothing to retouch memories
but even so, I drink in the soggy night like lemonade.
I used to keep to a strict diet of glowing blue words
before I became hungry
and learned you can replace almost anything with potato chips.

On nights like these I let the dizziness in
and pretend sloppy reality is enough to carry me through.
Blurry eyes see happiness everywhere, I tell myself,
falling asleep with that peaceful lie pressed against my chest.

When your smoky presence slips by me,
on nights like these,
I give in.
I pull out the tangled past and throw it over us like a quilt.
When you turn toward me, wispy, out of focus,
I pry your sleepy lids open with my cold fingers.
A million stars fall from your eggshell eyes
yet the sky has never been more black.

emmavee, I think your poem has a nice and consistent rhythm and I appreciate some of your descriptive creativity - "sepia moonlight/retouch memories." Other descriptive efforts didn't resonate so much with me - "soggy night" although it did enable the
drink(ing it) in ... like lemonade. I think you are trying to share inspiration resulting from trauma of an important and disappointing experience ... so the reference to potato chips, while in a sense is very real and applicable, to me, detracted from the serious nature of your inspiration. I also liked the "million stars" that fell from her eyes and think it referred to your acknowledgement of an emptying of hope. Please remember this critique is just my opinion and you are a much more talented poet than I think I am.