bianca-cavender - Hello Poetry

I hadn’t really known How objects could be emotions But this--this is an emotion like none other. This is the glass conductor of light Whose soft rays became symphonies Singing praise to Iris. She is the blood-red film Which cuts through the air alongside Streams flowing orange and violet And every color in between. Like a jouster She throws shards of rainbows Through each clouded pane. Their tranquil beauty is alive Breathing in the wind Teaching me that my lungs are a restriction. That my body is a metronome linked to the time Which will signal the stop of my ticking heart And I don’t know how many acts I have left to find my resolution. And though I cannot figure out How to even begin to comprehend just what that might be I know only that I do not want to depart this life As a mediocre play cut off mid-scene. I want the chance to write my own ending So that I can tie off the loose strings of my anxieties to balloons And let them lift the burden off of my shoulders. I want them to carry my depression along with it So when it rejoins natures tear ducts Which first brought it life, I can free myself from this prison Which made the atmosphere look like a gas chamber Trapped by the ever looming clouds. I saw more through opaque glass, than I ever saw in myself And so that stained glass window which showed me perspective Became a home for my restless thoughts.

0

Oct 26, 2014

Oct 26, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC

bianca-cavender

Stained Glass State of Mind

I hadn’t really known How objects could be emotions But this--this is an emotion like none other. This is the glass conductor of light Whose soft rays became symphonies Singing praise to Iris. She is the blood-red film Which cuts through the air alongside Streams flowing orange and violet And every color in between. Like a jouster She throws shards of rainbows Through each clouded pane. Their tranquil beauty is alive Breathing in the wind Teaching me that my lungs are a restriction. That my body is a metronome linked to the time Which will signal the stop of my ticking heart And I don’t know how many acts I have left to find my resolution. And though I cannot figure out How to even begin to comprehend just what that might be I know only that I do not want to depart this life As a mediocre play cut off mid-scene. I want the chance to write my own ending So that I can tie off the loose strings of my anxieties to balloons And let them lift the burden off of my shoulders. I want them to carry my depression along with it So when it rejoins natures tear ducts Which first brought it life, I can free myself from this prison Which made the atmosphere look like a gas chamber Trapped by the ever looming clouds. I saw more through opaque glass, than I ever saw in myself And so that stained glass window which showed me perspective Became a home for my restless thoughts.

35

It's a stressful adolescence When younger generations Are met with steeper expectations I don't understand why adults always say It will only get worse When I say I'm overwhelmed

0

Oct 23, 2014

Oct 23, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC

bianca-cavender

Lie to Me

It's a stressful adolescence When younger generations Are met with steeper expectations I don't understand why adults always say It will only get worse When I say I'm overwhelmed

6

I never imagined Death could be beautiful But then I saw the autumn leaves

0

Oct 23, 2014

Oct 23, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC

bianca-cavender

Autumn Leaves

I never imagined Death could be beautiful But then I saw the autumn leaves

3