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Losing Youth.
The Poppy Chronicles.
Losing Youth.
There's a race,
for two,
in a mausoleum of robots and glass and consumerism and electric and plastic and mobile phones--
He pulls my hand
and we're running again...
when did we stop?
We're past the girls with long hair in their newest ensembles
and the boys in their unbelted jeans.
He pays no attention as his eyes float manically around space.
We erase the parental guilt
and slow our feet, a hand still tightly clutching mine, as those blue seas glance back for me.
We're inside, inside the shop and passing a counter, or maybe two, filled with sparkling objects.
Somewhere toward the back of the store are the perfumes, I'm standing, glancing at the assistant, so naively, clutching his hand as he opens the large T90 bag--
He took that too.
"Sh."
One finger over my mouth as he slides the curved, shapely, tiny, glass woman inside his bag and
with one more bottle we're walking again.
His hand's still tightly clutching mine as those blue seas stare straight ahead.
Cold.
I feel like I'm falling behind, my guilt complex is setting in and we're running again and the adrenaline's kicking in and my breathing's shallow.
There's screaming behind, the sound of feet against the marble, the glass windows reflecting boys in black.
Other consumerists stare still like statues.
He's laughing, I'm laughing --
who the fuck are we?!
Where the fuck are we?!
Why the fuck don't we care?!
Outside, the fresh, damn cold, air.
Every shop taking a bite at us, raving dogs of the city.
We're faster and off their fangs.
I'm breathing heavy, slammed against a wall,
where he pins my shoulders whilst gasping for breath
and searches his pocket for something,
or other.
"This," He smirks with a white, circular, pill lying on his finger. "Tongue out, little girl."
I gulp down what I think is the last piece of innocence and open.
So long... Goodbye, sweet child.
Ha. I smirk. Welcome, wagtail alter-ego.
Losing Youth.
There's a race,
for two,
in a mausoleum of robots and glass and consumerism and electric and plastic and mobile phones--
He pulls my hand
and we're running again...
when did we stop?
We're past the girls with long hair in their newest ensembles
and the boys in their unbelted jeans.
He pays no attention as his eyes float manically around space.
We erase the parental guilt
and slow our feet, a hand still tightly clutching mine, as those blue seas glance back for me.
We're inside, inside the shop and passing a counter, or maybe two, filled with sparkling objects.
Somewhere toward the back of the store are the perfumes, I'm standing, glancing at the assistant, so naively, clutching his hand as he opens the large T90 bag--
He took that too.
"Sh."
One finger over my mouth as he slides the curved, shapely, tiny, glass woman inside his bag and
with one more bottle we're walking again.
His hand's still tightly clutching mine as those blue seas stare straight ahead.
Cold.
I feel like I'm falling behind, my guilt complex is setting in and we're running again and the adrenaline's kicking in and my breathing's shallow.
There's screaming behind, the sound of feet against the marble, the glass windows reflecting boys in black.
Other consumerists stare still like statues.
He's laughing, I'm laughing --
who the fuck are we?!
Where the fuck are we?!
Why the fuck don't we care?!
Outside, the fresh, damn cold, air.
Every shop taking a bite at us, raving dogs of the city.
We're faster and off their fangs.
I'm breathing heavy, slammed against a wall,
where he pins my shoulders whilst gasping for breath
and searches his pocket for something,
or other.
"This," He smirks with a white, circular, pill lying on his finger. "Tongue out, little girl."
I gulp down what I think is the last piece of innocence and open.
So long... Goodbye, sweet child.
Ha. I smirk. Welcome, wagtail alter-ego.
Published 1st Feb 2011
| Edited 2nd Feb 2011
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1st Feb 2011 4:14am
1st Feb 2011 1:59pm
Thank you, RavenofSorrow! I'm glad you liked it - I'll be writing a part two later today so hopefully you'll like that too. :) Thanks again!
1st Feb 2011 8:14am
So seriously moving and it really puts you in the moment....being dragged through the moment by fate without what it takes to grab hold and willfully turn away. Soo good.
1st Feb 2011 2:00pm
Thank you, I've now realized my life isn't completely boring and I can tell tales about it =] Glad you liked it! Thanks again, Splendid.
1st Feb 2011 2:10pm
Continue the running dear...I mean your sequel. I love your style madame. Amazing and fast paced poetry. I am now your fan.
1st Feb 2011 2:12pm
Thank you, Anandosen! I'm charmed, I'm glad it worked - I wasn't sure! Thanks
