Nov 2014
The needle opened a heavy, internal door
to a colourful, devilish tidal wave of pain.
I told him I didn't want to try it.
I told him I was scared of needles.
The needle opened a heavy, internal door
to a colourful, devilish soft spray of pain.
He asked me if I loved him
and I answered with hot metal
and the push of a syringe.
The needle opened a well used, flimsy door
to a colourful wave of pure, sweet pain.
Shadows line my arms like forget me nots,
and I spend my days lying in tranquil meadows,
surrounded by forest fire.
The needle opened me up
and gutted me out,
and I liked the pain.
to a colourful, devilish tidal wave of pain.
I told him I didn't want to try it.
I told him I was scared of needles.
The needle opened a heavy, internal door
to a colourful, devilish soft spray of pain.
He asked me if I loved him
and I answered with hot metal
and the push of a syringe.
The needle opened a well used, flimsy door
to a colourful wave of pure, sweet pain.
Shadows line my arms like forget me nots,
and I spend my days lying in tranquil meadows,
surrounded by forest fire.
The needle opened me up
and gutted me out,
and I liked the pain.
I thought I woud upload a few things I've been doing in class at uni. In this exercise we were given three words (mine were pain, door and colourful), and we were told to create a short poem with one recurring line, using the words. This is a very roughly written poem, but here you go.
