Poem -
Cave Crier
I can feel myself slipping—liquid,
petrol distress—towards a chasm lair.
Anima planes contain landmines
all down brittle vertebrae lane—
They took a wrong step to the right—
Another teeth-shattering shame quake.
Grenache sloshes trickles of gloom,
roof crumbles like a severed dream,
framed conviction cracks, and then,
so too the graceful, tenacious guise
that veils all the reverberations
of voices near and far away
that keep on informing me
of all the many ways
I am not enough.
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Comments
Wow, this is so dark, my first love was this, completely how I felt. I got books of poetry to prove it.
I'd like to point out a favourite line, but I cannot they are all superb. 🌹
I'm sorry you went through that too! Abusively critical people can inflict such a painful wound. Mine gets reopened at the most random times. Thank you so much for your kind words again Shirley🥰
Agree with Shirley... beautiful lines and powerful write x
Marion, thank you so much 🙏🌷
Hi Brittany, this is very noir, and you’re good in writing noir.
A very serious & difficult subject, but you managed to chose the words carefully & crafted well. B
Thank you very much B ❤️ I do love me some noir! it was very difficult to write about it for the first time. I might not have been able to if I didn't shroud in metaphor.
But now I have paved the way for perhaps more of them.
Oh very well crafted!
Thank you Tina for your kindness 🥰
Beautifully written🖤🖤🖤
Thank you Raechel.🥰 I appreciate that
Very dark, it takes a powerful soul to use the darkness as a tool to write, x
Thank you so much!🌹it was a challenging thing to write about, and even harder to post, but I'm glad that I did. I love the encouragement 💜