A storm of words
Creams the poet
Her solipsistic need for walls
Collapses as
Everything she flees
She faces
She skins bare her soul
Ripping labels from life’s undoing
Brutally unmasking the corrugated
Landscapes that box her in
Her peculiar scorn exposed
She spirals round its eye
Singing
see? See?
It’s not so bad
She digs at her scabs
to watch herself bleed.
bw / 17
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brenda warren
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And picking at scabs makes them bleed all over again. This is a raw poem that excels, Brenda. “Brutally unmasking the corrugated/Landscapes that box her in.” That is one brilliant image.
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Thank you, Sara. 💗
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Poets do I am sure say see, see, hoping their readers understand the nuances of the words.
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The digging at scabs is a particularly raw image.
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Haunting imagery – may her skin rest and heal
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Oh Wow…my fave line is “she skins bare her soul”…been there.
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