When I was eight,
I would press myself
against the creaky floorboards
of my home
and listen
to their tired groans
of protest from my weight
atop them,
as I ripped the caps
off Sharpies,
and let the ink
spread across the plastic wrap
like a flare.
I’d stick my confused
colorful Picassos
into an oven
and watch in awe
as the wrap
would shrink
and fold in on itself
appearing smaller
to the world.
Now,
at twenty
I no longer listen
to the groans
from my creaky
childhood home,
I listen–
to the murmurs
from the black
cellophane wrapped
shop windows and signs
of tired buildings
tired of wearing
faces, to great
the masses
of the world
that don’t show.
Sorry I have been missing in action, it's finals week this week and next for me and school and I have also just been struggling mentally a bit. Anyways, here is my latest poem idea, it's still a work in progress, but it felt nice to write something new! The idea started with Shrinky **** wraps, an old thing I would play around with as a kid and then spiraled into whatever this mess of a poem is.
To my few followers... Much Love - Sydney
