#twcwriter

[freezingat90]

i hate poetry

i hate the sentences twisting and threading through each other

i can’t stand the long words, descriptive words,

trip-on-your-tongue words

“her lips were cherry blossoms”, i hear

her lips are raw flesh, raw feeling, and that’s it, i think.

zeus strikes me down with metaphors instead of thunderbolts, similes instead of lightning

i hate poetry, i tell myself

i hate its winding words and all-knowing narrators

i hate feeling the intense gaze of someone so passionate about their words they could burst into flames

i hate the content cozy feeling that runs through me,

but even worse is pouring your heart into words, letting descriptions and sentences fill your mind until it overflows

and you know you want to write you want to let out all your sorrow your sadness your happiness your anger

i hate poetry,

for it breaks my dams

and shatters my careful walls.

[freezingat90]

zzz

i fight everyday

“just another page”

but it slows me down,

shuts me up when i close my eyes, and taking me

to another world- sometimes wonderful, sometimes terrifying

it’s terribly possessive, too,

always pulling me back in

making me late when it knows i can’t be late,

leaving horrid dark circles when i haven’t been seeing it

and the worst part is,

i can’t live without it

[freezingat90]

regular jealousy

a regular routine for my day to day

searching for any hint of dismay

when i’ve found it it glares at me,

a harmless flower turned into a sea of garden weeds

flames burning through my reason and sense

what i had seen with red-tinted glasses,

is no longer there

the only thing left that once was green

ruined earth, as far as i see

i water the soil and plant new seeds,

i clear my eyes and rub them dry

when a smidge of green appears for me,

i am relieved beyond measure,

to see that the seeds still grow, and i can still

bloom