She is in love with the taste of time
The kind trapped in glass bottles
Like hourglasses
Filled with sand that
Moves like an ocean
She engulfs the small grains
And stops all ticking
And ringing clocks
Another
Instrumental silence spills
It lingers and moves in her being
Another
Glass that holds death
Like a vase filled with
The yellow-tinted waters of
Wilted flowers that were
Smothered with shadows
Another
Shade of yellow to us
But to her
Gold
Another
Translucent bottle
That only her
Lost and troubled soul
Can blindly search
Past her teeth and
Through a distorted lens
Like a broken telescope
For an answer to
Her madness
Another
Another answer
No one will ever find
About the Creator
Peyton Dempsey
trying to find the motivation to write poems again
pittsburgh!
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