Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I wake up- the scent of fine powders, perspiration, and arrogance all laced around me, permeating. Duck under the sheets, shield yourself from the sunlight. Come back up for a breath of air. Mornings are repetition at its finest. Grab a fruit on your way to the water; peel it with sharp fingers; rip and tear. You open your eyes to a world in which you are born anew, puffy skinned and amazed. All the colors are a slightly different shade, more attached. Pale opalescence shines before your eyes. All sound is but a whisper now. Sweet release from a long sleep. Tire me again tonight, joy will come with the dawn.
0
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
Joy Will Come with the Dawn
I wake up- the scent of fine powders, perspiration, and arrogance all laced around me, permeating. Duck under the sheets, shield yourself from the sunlight. Come back up for a breath of air. Mornings are repetition at its finest. Grab a fruit on your way to the water; peel it with sharp fingers; rip and tear. You open your eyes to a world in which you are born anew, puffy skinned and amazed. All the colors are a slightly different shade, more attached. Pale opalescence shines before your eyes. All sound is but a whisper now. Sweet release from a long sleep. Tire me again tonight, joy will come with the dawn.
Written by
New York City, NY
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem