It seems that the same stories are told by different people, so I am trying a new form to bring new life to an old tale.
Was I to fool myself into thinking my inner darkness would not taint others? Relationships are a give and take, but there was to be no equilibrium.
I would give and give more of my shaded soul to a glowing spirit. My common filth, like a gritty pigeon, began to dissolve that sense of purity.
By no sense was this defilement physical. No, it was far worse. This flamboyant infection was that of mind and soul. A correspondence of meaningful glances and time to let the spores of desperation fester.
Time makes the heart want, but wanting can become insidious, even sinister. As the days grew longer, exchanges declined. Until my moment, my breaking point.
My heart screamed to my senses, begging reason for this relationship to mend. Mere moments passed and anger, not rage, grew anew. Rage would have risen his head, but I know I was a part to blame.
With fierce purpose and wild eyes, my hand drew back, ready to fire. Confusion dawned, while I in my desperate act miss; I missed that face. I could hardly stand
"... time to leave this place..."
Chest heaving, tears streaming, eyes puffed, hair aloft, and spirit downtrodden, I, exasperated, confessed to the earth my plight. The liquefied salt of my eyes watered the ground at my knees.
Alone for awhile, but never again with him. Morose in manner, my way home I made.
Poetry by Sarah Parnes
Read 981 times
Written on 2016-12-20 at 22:43
Tags Sad Exasperated Downtrodden
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The Retelling
Have you ever felt as if you have tainted someone? As if before you, and perhaps just as they met you, they contained an innocence? A white way about them?Was I to fool myself into thinking my inner darkness would not taint others? Relationships are a give and take, but there was to be no equilibrium.
I would give and give more of my shaded soul to a glowing spirit. My common filth, like a gritty pigeon, began to dissolve that sense of purity.
By no sense was this defilement physical. No, it was far worse. This flamboyant infection was that of mind and soul. A correspondence of meaningful glances and time to let the spores of desperation fester.
Time makes the heart want, but wanting can become insidious, even sinister. As the days grew longer, exchanges declined. Until my moment, my breaking point.
My heart screamed to my senses, begging reason for this relationship to mend. Mere moments passed and anger, not rage, grew anew. Rage would have risen his head, but I know I was a part to blame.
With fierce purpose and wild eyes, my hand drew back, ready to fire. Confusion dawned, while I in my desperate act miss; I missed that face. I could hardly stand
"... time to leave this place..."
Chest heaving, tears streaming, eyes puffed, hair aloft, and spirit downtrodden, I, exasperated, confessed to the earth my plight. The liquefied salt of my eyes watered the ground at my knees.
Alone for awhile, but never again with him. Morose in manner, my way home I made.
Poetry by Sarah Parnes
Read 981 times
Written on 2016-12-20 at 22:43
Tags Sad Exasperated Downtrodden
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
