OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 21: Screaming Inside Myself

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

I'm screaming into the wind

enough is enough

I've had it with having to let go

nobody ever wants to hold on

to the ugly one

to the one no-one pursues

to the one men go out with on a dare

memories of being the laughingstock

overwhelm me

I want to hide inside forever

I want to dance a little

but my body is broken

I don't laugh and sing in my dreams

I don't expect anything

except more rejection

don't reach out

stay inside

run and hide

nobody hears

and if they hear they don't listen

and if they listen

they don't understand

I'm forever screaming inside myself

because I know nobody hears

~Cie~

Notes:

Sorry, but I'm rubbish at making shape poems and I just got through writing a book review and I haven't even gotten to writing a chapter in my own story yet, so you get this tortured-scream free verse, in part inspired by the song I'm about to share, one to which I've been able to relate to all too well in my life.

Please, I implore you, this is one of those don't try to fix me pieces. Let me let it bleed. If there's one place a person ought to be able to express the dark, the bitter, the broken, that place is poetry.

Also, please don't say "I hope this isn't autobiographical."

It is, and saying that will not make it not autobiographical.

Let me let it bleed.
The aftermath of bullying is forever.

Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #107: Soliloquy No Renga: One Starry Night

Starry Night by Alex Ruiz

one starry night

to make that one painting -

the rustling leaves

as summer draws to a close

and the green leaves turn to gold

on one starry night
so many years in the past
years rushed by so fast
a foolish girl made a wish
that could never come to pass

she would never be
Venus Anadyomene
more Pickman's model
never seen through eyes of love
always used and tossed aside

the rustling of leaves
as they crunch beneath the shoes
of a broken crone
step hobbled and hair of gray
dead dreams lie within her heart

summer draws to close
life's flame is growing dimmer
she hides in the dark
tortured by the memory
of a girl who wanted more

green leaves turn to gold
golden strands of hair to gray
no matter the shade
she was never beautiful
her heart is cold as winter

~Chèvrefeuille & Cie~

Notes:

The first Hokku was created by Chèvrefeuille. The rest of this mess you can blame on me.

Shout-outs to Sandro Botticelli and H.P. Lovecraft. Can you spot their influence?

Carpe Diem Field of Flowers: Yarrow

Image Source

like yellow yarrow

I am plain, scrubby, and rough

my beauty unseen

~Cie~