Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Bittersweet Apr 2017
Silkiness trickles down my calves
Pencil protruding from a puncture wound
Yellow woods, stained crimson
Oh…. Nothing there

Eyes travel over blooming hair
Grassy greens into a sky blue
On a sticky afternoon
I’m glad she didn’t notice

The pencil finally ends its dance
And the figures start to breath
Penciled eyes blink, sweet mouths curve
Please talk to me

A slender figure dancing on the trees
Right outside my window
What a curious way to entertain me
Why don’t people see?

I hallucinate there’s a world around
With people crowding all around
I imagine some asking, pleading, begging me
Muffled voices murmuring.
Wake up darling.
Be alive and speak
That’s why it’s only a dream
This is the poem i'm proudest of. Glad to post it here.

— The End —