bones
I wonder if this hollow gap
is just a trick of light; or is it true
that there's a hole
right where my heart should be?
Mayhap 'tis all a glamour -
an illusion, if you will.
But what if it's all quite real -
like the face inside my mirror?
A day will come -
I think it's soon -
where flesh is not enough
to hide the deep'ning grooves along
the insides of my blood.
N'er a scar nor blemish did mar
the smoothness of her skin.
Yet a day will come -
and I believe it's quite soon -
where all will say, good-bye.
How could a tree hold itself up
if there is no soil for it to root?
No clear water to feed its thirst,
no sun to give it life?
And so the same with the brittle bones
that make the skeleton beneath our face:
how easy 'twould be to lightly snap -
how easy for it to crack?
I wonder when the day will come
when my bones will finally realize
that there is aught beneath this skin
to hold them strong - gloriously alive.
That there is aught beneath this skin
except a void of blank nothing -
and mayhap then I shall finally
collapse unto myself.
YOU ARE READING
Ephemeral Obscurity
Poetry❝I have never been myself as much as I have with you and all these words.❞ A beginner's attempt at poetry, exploring a few different forms and voices while trying to convey loss and beauty. Organized alphabetically, so feel free to read in what...
