I found myself burning
All the masks I'd sewn onto my face
The world started looking at me
Like I was contagious
I’d finally broken free
From what they demanded I become
I started to listen to my heart
Dancing to my own beat
To music no one could hear
It became so loud, so lonely at the same time
Afraid of how every move
Every misstep would be absorbed
I stopped looking for validation
In every broken mirror
Except the one I was holding
Breaking all the molds of the past
Running as fast as I could
Chasing after a late-night dream
She dreams in black and white sprinkled in color
I couldn’t escape the taste of glitter on everything
How it skewed every thought I had
How, when would it go too far?
She was both fire and water
All mixed in a full wine glass
Grab it too fast and you’ll get burned
Or ruin your favorite shirt
She’ll be the air that escapes your lungs
When the fire is too hot
And the hydration you need
When there’s no more water
Just a late-night dream
Drowned in red wine
When white would have done
And left less of a mess
But there’s no fun in chasing a dream
Or choosing what color stains best
About the Creator
Anxious Little Rock
Writing to free myself from years of never sharing my voice. I was always the girl with the quiet confusing stare. Lost in thought, always questioning when I would ever belong. Always misunderstood.
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A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli2 days ago in Poets
"LIFE MEANING IS A MANY SPLENDERED THING"
This was inspired through my living so many decades of life intensely and creatively! This is dedicated to all young human beings to learn the difference between being addicted to love and real love, of true compassion and friendship that must go hand in hand with companionship.’
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
This is a beautiful piece. I'd like to read more of your work.