Here we go again;
something else I’ve failed to do.
I feel the tension in the air;
too thick for the knife to cut through.
I can see it; her discomfort;
she holds her arms as she speaks.
Eyebrows upraised as her voice slowly peaks.
She must have seen it, too;
The confusion on my face
as my eyes squinted to understand
the meaning of her pace.
Now I hear the sound
of the anger in her words.
A fever pitch of violence
raining down like shitting birds.
They say it’s good luck,
but I really hate the smell.
Fear emanating from anger;
a steaming fragrant yell.
Leaves a bad taste in my mouth;
I wish I knew what to do.
I retreat into my shell
to consult my point of view.
About the Creator
Hector Gonzalez
I'm a creative writer. I don't blog or write op-eds. I talk about my perspectives on twitch as I write and I consolidate my most intricate feelings into poetic forms. I'm always open for meaningful conversation.
Comments (1)
Loved this take on the challenge—really plays into sensorial analogies in a tangible way!