l i g h t n i n g s c a r s-poetry

clean slate

crying in my hotel room
quietly sobbing on the  bathroom floor
so my sleeping family don't wake from their idle chatter

because they will knock
and interrupt the thoughts that i should have faced months ago.

or years even. there is no time limit on regret. maybe it's the time of year.  december, i now have a dirty slate that i can soon wipe clean.

but i will find my board covered in permanent marker, that will not disappear. no matter how hard i scrub.

so that when i write, my words become blurred and unclear, hiding in a sea of black ink, and i'm shouting from underwater, where no one can hear my screams

and i'm alone.

This won't post until tomorrow as i am, in fact, in a hotel in Edinburgh. I feel like I should vaguely explain what this poem means to me. All my poems are (overly) personal but obviously you can interpret them in any way you want. because art is obviously subjective yadda yadda. Anyway: As 2017 is coming to an end, i'm regretting the things i didn't do, the chances i didn't take, rather than my past actions. I want a blank slate so I can try again next year, but I feel like nothing will ever change, and i will never dare because of the effects people in my past (and present) have had on me. If that makes sense. If you enjoyed please comment to tell me your thoughts :-) Also over 100 reads now... thank you so much guys💖

-Sophie 🌹