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My Foolish Audacity Pt. 1

A Scorn Identity - #5

By House September Published about a year ago 1 min read
My Foolish Audacity Pt. 1
Photo by Elliott Engelmann on Unsplash

I was resurrected like the seasonal blooming flowers,

with fresh nectar on my flesh,

perhaps, it was from Spring itself.

What good is humor

without knowing the wrath?


I sought out to expose the humor.

With a shift in my cadence,

I announced my wrath onto the company,

and silence erupted.

Not a single flinch.


“You are being sharp”, I was told,

and the screeching began.

My arms extended out onto the walls,

and the screams echoed against

the walls within me.


The nectar haze has faded,

and the inquisitive lips remained.

I joust to lock my jaw but

the treasonous words are caught in between my lips.

I became a prisoner of my own unshackled tongue.


I will not flee to absolution,

nor to the dirt.

I will flee from where the whispers float,

and homogenize onto the ceiling.

I will hide and inquire on my own.

performance poetrysurreal poetry

About the Creator

House September

We’ll play with each other’s broken hearts. Let us exchange our pieces like trading cards.

I’m too bored to notice, and you are too high to notice the air beneath your feet.

I have poems to share.

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    House September Written by House September

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