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Literature Text
The volcano in my chest
erupts when I'm around you.
The molten lava bubbles in my stomach;
it overheats my face and the melts my heart.
You'll be dying to harvest
the diamonds forming inside me;
if I'm not careful, that'll be all you want.
Eventually, they'll coat my entire body.
Keep cool, keep concealing!
Don't let him see
your instability
and vulnerability.
He burns his hands
when he touches me,
but he says he likes the feeling.
I hate the power he has over me.
If that lava ever stops boiling,
and the love ever ceasing broiling,
yet another flimsy layer of trust issues
will be encasing, hardening
my heart again.
erupts when I'm around you.
The molten lava bubbles in my stomach;
it overheats my face and the melts my heart.
You'll be dying to harvest
the diamonds forming inside me;
if I'm not careful, that'll be all you want.
Eventually, they'll coat my entire body.
Keep cool, keep concealing!
Don't let him see
your instability
and vulnerability.
He burns his hands
when he touches me,
but he says he likes the feeling.
I hate the power he has over me.
If that lava ever stops boiling,
and the love ever ceasing broiling,
yet another flimsy layer of trust issues
will be encasing, hardening
my heart again.
Literature
Winter Heat, Summer Sleet
It's the middle of winter
And January's burning through,
Blurring into
February skies churning, becoming the color in my eyes
March is coming fast
And I know that its harsh winds cannot last
Yet I wonder if I'll still sing
When all becomes still at the end of spring
And heat sets in
Then will I long for this winter wind
To return to the land once again?
Literature
winter
i didn't think that the artificial fireplace logs
would turn out to be
some kind of cruel metaphor
but here i am,
trying to ingest antifreeze to
deal with the shivers you i
send across
raw clinging collarbones , d
own
clanking vertebrae screaming at me to
let go or i'll melt into your
chest like the snowflake that lost its 6th
arm
and you
know that's not how it works and
i do too.
i turn around
and realize that
you
' re not beside
me, anymore
Literature
Haikuwrimo 1
winter's child with a
summer glow, the seasons were
combed into you hair
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This comment is going to sound a little strange, but this poem really stands out to me because of what it does with the metaphor. I really love anything volcanic, especially environments with fire/lava/etc., so seeing this poem take those elements and use them as a metaphor for emotional pain is simply fascinating to behold. 