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.
Cartilage
It's time to finally summon up the blood and heal this undue trauma. If I could, I would erase every inch of you from history. No trace or hint that you were ever really here. Your existence would be wiped entirely and I will benefit from every obliterated tragedy. I would set the past ablaze along with you in it. I burned the book with your name on every page. You were the cause of all my fruitless endeavors, the root of all my unnecessary quivering. I matter whether or not you ever saw it, whether or not you ever acknowledged it. I couldn't give you any more of what you never appreciated. How much did it cost to sell your soul? Did you ever have one to begin with? Can I transform this roadblock into something better? Can I ever think of you without becoming bitter? You were merely a colonizer taking credit for everything you never earned. I have to un-laminate myself so you can no longer infiltrate me even further. I knocked you down from the top spot in our hierarchy and you resented me for it. Mediocrity became the norm while you forbid me from accomplishing anything without you. Your stamp of approval was required for everything underneath the sun. I kept circling the drain and waiting for the inescapable plunge. We were somehow always predetermined to go our separate ways. We prolonged the unavoidable for reasons that no longer make any sense. Even at our worst, that comfort zone was all we had. I couldn't prevent the loose gravel from collapsing in on me. You were trapped in the rubble after the earthquake. You were abandoned in the mineshaft after the cave-in. You suffocated from the dirt I had buried you in after brief contemplation. You were the vindictive one but I'm the one who's been vindicated. We were lost in the rust and losing our identities. I've learned to embrace these eccentricities but you only embraced yourself. You didn't know enough to realize you didn't know enough. I didn't know who I was without you. You were the still born aspect of my life that just simply refused to let go. Your actions can never be reversed and they will whither away in agony. Your words attempted to lacerate me but your gutless lies can no longer torment me. If I had to succumb and align with the dearly departed, I knew I would find a way to revive and awaken once more. My body will heal and my wounds will mend in time. My bones will be restored and my cartilage will resurrect over and over again. It's not in your nature to overcome adversity but it is in mine. You came back to steal my worth but realized you never could. My destiny is in my own hands which is something you never understood. Your words may echo for a few lifetimes but my actions will echo forever in eternity
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Atra Mors
We questioned everything but never received any response. No evidence or trace of origin. We contacted the ends of the solar system and still never any roots of a creator. The Black Death is nothing compared to this big, empty, and lonely existence on solitary Earth. I've seen our Pale Blue Dot of a planet but have always taken it for granted. I'm not a stoic any longer. Whatever is approaching is inevitable and impossible to alter its trajectory. One by one, the planets fall victim to this Nihilistic Ball. Decadent Dance. Mars and Mercury will dissipate and Venus is already gone. Uranus will collide into Broken Jupiter. Arid Saturn. Nocturnal Neptune. Pluto has returned but retreated into oblivion. And now it's our turn. We're next
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
