deepundergroundpoetry.com
Splitting
She has an aura, it blows peace into the air
Recall the moment you step out into the spring dawn, after yesterday’s rain
Inhale… exhale out, you are grounded.
She exudes the essence of that very spring.
You can’t help but feel the attraction of her presence.
She is magnetic. Magical.
A walking daydream, in fair skin
Then,
Without a formal notice,
She is the storm that might’ve hit the day before, to drown your delightful morning.
Well, she wound back time, somehow.
She is destruction in passive, and sometimes assertive motion
It hurts the world, and those who happen to land nearby
Or chose to chase her light
It hurts her
She is a full moon aglow, the darker side emerging behind our midnight sun
She is a fire goddess, jeweled eyes ablaze
Stripping the forest clean of all its infantile green
Who can fathom a feeling of light and heavy
As equals?
And bestowed upon this delicate frame
Fit to hold but a few ounces of pain
She holds the weight of the world on bony shoulders
Who could fathom?
Splitting
Sometimes faster than she could reach for the pen to scream
Or paint some picture of anger
Perhaps a song, to transfer all the words she ends up saying to an innocent person
This is the fragile life she leads
Like gymnasts do their tricks on a beam
Four inches wide, a path she strides
Even the professionals slip, once in awhile
But she’s the one who bruises and breaks
All over some minute mistake
Stay with her, or stay away.
It’s not win or lose, whichever you decide.
But she’s got a sweet lullaby voice
Who can also be a monster of insanity
Isolation, revenge, and that so called “dead to me” phrase.
Begging to see some shade of gray
In her black and white world
She hopes this for her, someday.
Recall the moment you step out into the spring dawn, after yesterday’s rain
Inhale… exhale out, you are grounded.
She exudes the essence of that very spring.
You can’t help but feel the attraction of her presence.
She is magnetic. Magical.
A walking daydream, in fair skin
Then,
Without a formal notice,
She is the storm that might’ve hit the day before, to drown your delightful morning.
Well, she wound back time, somehow.
She is destruction in passive, and sometimes assertive motion
It hurts the world, and those who happen to land nearby
Or chose to chase her light
It hurts her
She is a full moon aglow, the darker side emerging behind our midnight sun
She is a fire goddess, jeweled eyes ablaze
Stripping the forest clean of all its infantile green
Who can fathom a feeling of light and heavy
As equals?
And bestowed upon this delicate frame
Fit to hold but a few ounces of pain
She holds the weight of the world on bony shoulders
Who could fathom?
Splitting
Sometimes faster than she could reach for the pen to scream
Or paint some picture of anger
Perhaps a song, to transfer all the words she ends up saying to an innocent person
This is the fragile life she leads
Like gymnasts do their tricks on a beam
Four inches wide, a path she strides
Even the professionals slip, once in awhile
But she’s the one who bruises and breaks
All over some minute mistake
Stay with her, or stay away.
It’s not win or lose, whichever you decide.
But she’s got a sweet lullaby voice
Who can also be a monster of insanity
Isolation, revenge, and that so called “dead to me” phrase.
Begging to see some shade of gray
In her black and white world
She hopes this for her, someday.
Published 7th Apr 2024
Author's Note
NaPo 24’ #6
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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7th Apr 2024 00:31am
hello beautiful Fairy this is excellent in its observations it is painful to read because I can relate...
8th Apr 2024 7:36am
Seeing this made me smile. I love hearing from you, and it makes me feel less alone to know someone else understands this overwhelming reality of ourselves. Thank you
- fairy 🧚♀️
- fairy 🧚♀️
