lately, I haven’t been feeling like talking much
I am usually beyond myself as I extrapolate my emotions into a more coherent genre of socialization
I stand by in the sidelines, I echo the sentiments of others in silence
As I wallow in my fear, of the longer days that creep into my head like a ghostly firefly with a broken light
I remember the day of the chili cook off, in that backwards piece of beautiful country
The chicken chili was my favorite
I had never had that before
I didn’t think chicken could go in chili
But I found out
In the end of the last breath of afternoon’s music
A secret waterfall
That I recall in my wallflower moments in summer,
How all the kids were playing in the creek, the greenery, the edge of the forest with the leaking water that rained down like a crying wolf
how I longed to meet the fairy in my waking dreams
A mess of fairies to haunt my mind
I recall the waterfall
I’m dazzled in dizzy spells, to have
Mischief to become my own hero
As I fell,
I don’t feel like myself now
The secret waterfall that calls to me,
Where is that stardust dreamer, I dread to believe in
the kafkaesque brutality of my wallflower painting
I tend to use my flowery heart to add in details
I saw her, the little bit of dreamscape, yes I did
In between the rocks and the stars and the sun
The new alien from a majestic space
She wipes the dust from the earth
She saw me, I saw her
But we said nothing out loud
As the world spun away from our crowded hearts
I don’t feel much like talking nowadays
Not much at all.
———-
Check out my friend Julie’s newest book Air Fairies: The Training Begins (The Aeolian Tales Book 1) on Amazon. It’s a great read for young adults and teens! The emotions she brings and world weaving is truly amazing 🤩 this piece was inspired by her work!
About the Creator
Melissa Ingoldsby
I am a published author on Patheos,
I am Bexley by Resurgence Novels
The Half Paper Moon on Golden Storyline Books for Kindle.
My novella The Job and Atonement will be published this year by JMS Books
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Comments (3)
The wallflower has the consolation of observing events within which others perish. Who is the observer: the one who senses, the one who thinks, or the one beyond the machinery of body and mind? Well-wrought!
Whoaaa, this was so deep and emotional! Remember the story I said I'm working on? I only made Kafkaesque it's title but decided against it, lol. Loved your poem so much!
Melissa, this was fabulous!!! Love it!!!❤️❤️💕