30X30: Write Poetry from my Heart
Hollow Chocolate Bunny of the Apocalypse
Icy rain patters against my numb skin,
A muffled tattoo through cotton-filled ears.
Hollow voices echo faintly around my empty ribcage,
Diminishing in sense and meaning with each weak colision:
Roars and laughter of those bigger than me, louder than me, brighter than me
All blazing like a moth on fire.
And here I sit, cocooned in webs of apathy, as their flares and shadows play across my uncovered eyes and mock me.
Is this the choice for a latent Sylvia Plath: erratic dagger-deep rapture or pharmaceutical mummification?
I wait, a hollow chocolate bunny of the apocalypse, for a raspy, dust-filled voice inside myself to respond “no.”
Maybe tomorrow.
This is not what I was thinking of when I wanted to write poetry from the heart, but I needed to write this so here it is.
Icy rain patters against my numb skin,
A muffled tattoo through cotton-filled ears.
Hollow voices echo faintly around my empty ribcage,
Diminishing in sense and meaning with each weak colision:
Roars and laughter of those bigger than me, louder than me, brighter than me
All blazing like a moth on fire.
And here I sit, cocooned in webs of apathy, as their flares and shadows play across my uncovered eyes and mock me.
Is this the choice for a latent Sylvia Plath: erratic dagger-deep rapture or pharmaceutical mummification?
I wait, a hollow chocolate bunny of the apocalypse, for a raspy, dust-filled voice inside myself to respond “no.”
Maybe tomorrow.
This is not what I was thinking of when I wanted to write poetry from the heart, but I needed to write this so here it is.