it was like relentless screaming
between a mother and a father
you closed your eyes and cried
but you still let the words reach your cochlear
the only thing they nurtured
the only thing that made them close to parents
was the love they grew in the sand
but it washed it ages ago
you looked in the mirror
and saw a flower in the reflection
where did the petals go?
did they love you? did they not?
she kicked and she kicked
but she let him kiss
and you cried into the darkness
even when you saw the bruises he left on her skin
like fender and claire
teasing in the library
leaving him an earring in their honour
the last thing that glistened between them
YOU ARE READING
Effusive Verbosity
PoetryI have trouble with being succinct, or rather lack being succinct at all. Poetry doesn't come naturally to me, not usually anyway. In fact, I'd rather indulge myself in writing a novel, but there are thoughts in my head and feelings in my heart that...
