I don't know that I really want to post this poem. It feels...I don't know. It feels like a lot of things.
This stupid every day poem thing...I'm very cross with this deal I made with myself right now. Very, very cross.
I kinda feel like this poem needs a trigger warning. I don't know that it really actually does, but maybe....so I'll just leave that here. Possible trigger warning sound fair?
Day 16.
(Also, as cross as I am, I've written 16 poems. That's a lot of poems, really. Especially for 16 days!)
Rattlesnakes
Perhaps it was drowned
out by the hissing.
Perhaps the rattling
tail was too loud
he couldn't hear me
with his lethal charm
he slid down and around
and in
smiled when I said it
hissed all the more
loudly so my no
was nothing more than a
cricket with one wing
chirping in a field
of rattlesnakes.
Last Sunday
when you asked if
you could give him my number
my answer was drowned
out by your hissing.
Your tail rattled before
you had even finished the question
your lethal charm and authority,
just by your very
presence,
takes my wing and breaks it
silencing my
chirping.
When I say no and you
ignore me,
it puts me in my
body so I no longer want to
live there.
I search every limb,
every organ, every cell
for a trap door
an elevator
a hidden stair case
I search for the hammer
to break the glass
to sound the alarm
but it only ever
shatters inward,
silently.
When I say no
and you ignore me
I am plunged into the
pool and -
while it may be safe -
I'll never know:
all I can hear
is the hissing.
No comments:
Post a Comment