Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
alice-1Poems
I am a murderer. Clenching my fists, I made a bed And killed myself in it. Sheets that once held goodnight kisses And rosy morning cheeks Fell victim to restless legs, Twisted in agony. I am a hunter. Following my own track marks, I shot myself down. I kissed each vein With the tongue of a syringe And purged its belly Until a brown river Emptied into my blood. I am a dying woman. Hanging my heavy head Over crumpled green towel, I collapsed on a carpet covered in clothes That were hastily stripped off and tossed aside. I knelt amongst the tattered tees And the grass stained denim That reeked of slow defeat. I am a prisoner. Pulling my curly hair Taut in tired fists, I freed every bit from my scalp. Running blades across my skull, I nicked my tender skin Like dancing through a rose garden Until there was nothing left but raw flesh. I am a thief. Staring at a stranger’s reflection, I saw body bags beneath her eyes And lids that closed like coffins. A ghostly girl, A stolen soul, A blank mask, A hood of bone. ©Jenna Allie
0
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 12:22 AM UTC
Dancing Through a Rose Garden (Class Assignment, Annotations/Revisions Needed)
I am a murderer. Clenching my fists, I made a bed And killed myself in it. Sheets that once held goodnight kisses And rosy morning cheeks Fell victim to restless legs, Twisted in agony. I am a hunter. Following my own track marks, I shot myself down. I kissed each vein With the tongue of a syringe And purged its belly Until a brown river Emptied into my blood. I am a dying woman. Hanging my heavy head Over crumpled green towel, I collapsed on a carpet covered in clothes That were hastily stripped off and tossed aside. I knelt amongst the tattered tees And the grass stained denim That reeked of slow defeat. I am a prisoner. Pulling my curly hair Taut in tired fists, I freed every bit from my scalp. Running blades across my skull, I nicked my tender skin Like dancing through a rose garden Until there was nothing left but raw flesh. I am a thief. Staring at a stranger’s reflection, I saw body bags beneath her eyes And lids that closed like coffins. A ghostly girl, A stolen soul, A blank mask, A hood of bone. ©Jenna Allie
Written by
alice-1
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 12:22 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem