Poem -
Brittle
I'd badly need
to squeeze the dirt
out of the filthy rag of
my mind.
I can't see anything but
red bodies staring at my
red body.
My retina must have bruises.
Feels like I'm walking
on eight feet
eight beautiful long legs
Feels like my lashes are
spears.
I own my body like
I own a my black studded watch.
I can feel it ticking.
Tick.
Your hands fixing me.
Thumb tacks in my skin.
One day I'll shed
this brittle black dress
and then
everything will come to an end.
I'll be nothing
but a naked rotten skeleton.
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Comments
WOW!!.., This is fantastic writing BEÄTRICE!!.....the imagery transported me into the perspective of being inside the eight legged body itself....,, feeling its brittleness......feeling the thumb tacks on my skin..... reminds me A LOT of Franz Kafka's "THE METAMORPHISIS"!!.....I had to PIN this just to be able to direct other writers to it!!..... absolute brilliance shown here!!...... well done dear poetess!!....,,, LOVE and ROCKETS!!.......T xo ?✳✴☀
Oh Thank you sooooo much ! Indeed, I wanted to convey a metamorphosis feeling.... :D I'm so glad when my poetry is appreciated!
Refined, beautiful and effortlessly accomplished
...as always.
J ;)
Thank u sooo much !