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crumpled words
October 23, 2014
Our infant mouths were
soaked with quiet whispers
Carved out of shyness.
The moisture that fled that
house swarmed through the old cracks
In the eggshell white walls.
My small hands could feel
the burden of each argument
That made its way up those carpeted floors
the noise now lurks through
two separate houses, miles apart.
All these words have been written before
Broken by scorn,
laying crumpled under
my bed in glass jars
Pretending to be something other than me.
© Fransisca A., Surabaya, Indonesia
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This article has 2 comments.
EmilytheBelleofA. DIAMOND said...
on Nov. 4 2014 at 8:47 am
Wow. I absolutely, love this. The descriptiveness and the vividness in your poem is beautiful and raw; it just has so much, emotion. I think this is wonderful. You do have such a talent and greatness and light in you; never forget that, please. Thank you so much, my friend! For sharing this. :)
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