Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
kateccPoems
At the heights of a Surrey valley is where I stand alone. The clouds roll in with attempted suppression, wuthering, as one may say. Yet they succeed and I do not. All this vacantness on the moors, in turn: suffocation. All this gale of violence and madness, not a single shiver, but a private, intense burning sensation. Would it set fire to the moors, the libraries, and the red curtain theatre? Or would it melt the defendant themselves? I wish for the former, yet I am already melting. I put my hand on the gnomon-less sundial, and still I stand alone drunk on the all-consuming emotions inflicted by these brick walls or rather the crowds of unpredictability within them.
0
Apr 20, 2022
Apr 20, 2022 at 7:42 PM UTC
Drunk on a school night
At the heights of a Surrey valley is where I stand alone. The clouds roll in with attempted suppression, wuthering, as one may say. Yet they succeed and I do not. All this vacantness on the moors, in turn: suffocation. All this gale of violence and madness, not a single shiver, but a private, intense burning sensation. Would it set fire to the moors, the libraries, and the red curtain theatre? Or would it melt the defendant themselves? I wish for the former, yet I am already melting. I put my hand on the gnomon-less sundial, and still I stand alone drunk on the all-consuming emotions inflicted by these brick walls or rather the crowds of unpredictability within them.
much less thought put into this one than the previous. this one's more of a go-with-the-flow led by my emotions during my writing session.
#drunk#alcohol#school#burn#fire#emotions#lost#outsider#wutheringheights
katecc
Written by
katecc
18/F
Apr 20, 2022
Apr 20, 2022 at 7:42 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem