surreal poetry
Surrealist poetry embodies the essence of poetry itself, drawing upon shocking imagery and lyrical incongruities to comment on the inner-workings of the mind.
Letter 01/29/22
01/29/22 Dear Unnamed, She smelt like cigarettes and perfume. It made me wonder when she would die. Is this too morbid? Too dark? I can’t help but wonder. Doesn’t she know she’s loved? That her son needs her to find him worth living for because he doesn’t think he is and he needs a sign to keep going? Doesn’t she know that if she goes, he will, too? That her mother will have two graves to cry over through the years? Does she not care or does she just not know? How nice it must be to not know. How nice it must be to not have that kind of pressure weighing you down. To feel like you have to live for someone else. But, who else would you live for? If you say “for yourself,” you’re a liar. None of us find ourselves worth living for. It’s why we put our worth into everyone and everything but us. It’s why her son needs her to say he’s worth it. It’s why she needs to live for him— because she won’t do it for herself. It’s like she doesn’t have the capacity to. She’s too far gone under the waves of sadness and cigarette smoke, too far drowned in the vodka and coke that she tries hiding from him. But he knows. He knows how lost she is. It’s part of why he needs to know he’s enough. He needs her to be ok, because if she’s not, then what justice is there in this world? What is there thatw’s right and safe, then? Because he doesn’t know and needs an answer.
By Emery Pine5 years ago in Poets
