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It’s difficult to comprehend that
this is the same skin that, a few years ago
frolicked around in bars, carelessly giving out kisses.
Every scar carries more
my flesh, less young explains
the former stupidity I carried
Accompanied by confidence.
I was but a child, lost in the woods
unaware what dangerous animals lurk.
Even then, surprised by my own’s existence
Me still being here and
I was brave, but not brave enough.
The quick breaths during the
I did not know they hit like a hammer, I
a hot blade
They were hardening fear.
Enormous, monstrous fear.
I was powerful and strong, every year
my height lowering, so that my
once clear voice turns into a
An exhalation, kept alive by the ones
close enough to put their ear next to my
What anger I contain.
How mutely I express it.
It was once powerful.
Erupted from my chest like
burning the monsters far, far away from me.
Now it barely sparks when I’m reminded of
the long gone evil men
Mean, mean men who did mean things.
It’s not that I wasn’t fashioned to arrive at this point.
But the feet pressing onto my clay body did not help.
Now I’m dried and crooked.
My voice quiet, body
As I exhale smoke once more, I get inside
embrace my love and think:
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