New Year Poetry Challenge, Prompt #10*
Just Float, Darling
I know a girl with the most remarkable skill.
Her radar eyes spot any imperfection,
see wrinkle before smile.
She can remember every wrong answer, move, mistake
without fail.
She's stands inside a swirling vortex
of depression yet
she is a pillar of positivity.
She feels too much, I think.
Can't help but soak in the beauty around her
keeping in mind its impermanence.
"Why can't you just enjoy it, love?"
Every day she feels the rope burn, hears the steady hum,
tries to live and make decisions while this drastic polarity inside of her body
swarms.
She has a knack for assuming the worst,
has a talent for trying to destroy every thing that's ever been
any good for her.
She's always felt undeserving of anything beautiful, like love,
so the awkward proclamations of self-love she samples on her tongue
seem contrived some days.
No matter how far she comes, something inexplicable seems to
swallow her up.
There are times she doesn't feel strong enough to stomp out the lies
she tells herself.
"You're crumbling, sweetheart."
It's as if she's programmed to fail before she even tries,
why she stays in her comfort zones, no matter how uncomfortable
they become.
She feels neglected easily, like when the sun goes down.
"It has to go down sometimes, darling."
Like the moon ain't supposed to have its season too.
She must be the greenest grass
in the meanest winter.
Skilled, I tell you, to aim for impossible perfections.
"Write a poem about COMFORT ZONES -- your particular comfort zone, jumping out of a comfort zone, a literal comfort zone, our metaphorical comfort zones, a specific event, or the general essence of comfort zones."
I know a girl with the most remarkable skill.
Her radar eyes spot any imperfection,
see wrinkle before smile.
She can remember every wrong answer, move, mistake
without fail.
She's stands inside a swirling vortex
of depression yet
she is a pillar of positivity.
She feels too much, I think.
Can't help but soak in the beauty around her
keeping in mind its impermanence.
"Why can't you just enjoy it, love?"
Every day she feels the rope burn, hears the steady hum,
tries to live and make decisions while this drastic polarity inside of her body
swarms.
She has a knack for assuming the worst,
has a talent for trying to destroy every thing that's ever been
any good for her.
She's always felt undeserving of anything beautiful, like love,
so the awkward proclamations of self-love she samples on her tongue
seem contrived some days.
No matter how far she comes, something inexplicable seems to
swallow her up.
There are times she doesn't feel strong enough to stomp out the lies
she tells herself.
"You're crumbling, sweetheart."
It's as if she's programmed to fail before she even tries,
why she stays in her comfort zones, no matter how uncomfortable
they become.
She feels neglected easily, like when the sun goes down.
"It has to go down sometimes, darling."
Like the moon ain't supposed to have its season too.
She must be the greenest grass
in the meanest winter.
Skilled, I tell you, to aim for impossible perfections.
She's so busy living ahead, planning for disaster,
that she can watch herself fall under the surface from a distance.
"Don't just stand there staring. You're flailing, dear.
"Don't just stand there staring. You're flailing, dear.
You'll only drown, which is silly.
Who cares if you can't swim?
You sure enough know how to float."
She seems a glutton, at times, for her own
suffering.
12.22.14 es
Who cares if you can't swim?
You sure enough know how to float."
She seems a glutton, at times, for her own
suffering.
12.22.14 es
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