their attractive empty promises
Search/fight for "the real Paul" - Poem inspired of an old Poppy's Prompts
Sc r e w e d
without (hope)
Shots fired
oo o oo o
by life and vice
leave b l e e d i n g
bullet holes
o oo oo o
o o z i n g and s e e p i n g
*
as the lies I've told
good, bad, ugly
white, black, red
all stacked-up|against|me
*
one by one by one
like (Babushka dolls)
one by one by one
*
- 2 am -
wonder
if I'm "the real Paul"
or the fantastical version of myself?
*
Wonder
if I'm the screw-up
or the hard-done-by-saint (I'm not)
I (invented?) long ago?
*
When I b l e w seeds of doubt
into everyone's lungs
like seeds of dandelions
oo o o oo
one by one by one
)choking( them out
one by one by one
*
before they can remember
the other "me"
*
where is my hope for regrowth?
not in the pixels
not on the path of least resistance
*
facing demons and ignoring...
ignoring their attractive, empty promises
*
Thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: Another unpublished cast-off from one of Poppy's Prompts from a few months ago. The subject matter is something that is at the forefront of my mind right now as I am finally trying to work on my problems rather than just staying clean. Anyway. Ta-da.
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Scottish-Italian poet/writer from Glasgow.
Overflowing in English language torture and word abuse.
"Every man has a sane spot somewhere" R.L Stevenson
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection is now available!
https://paulspoeticprints.etsy.com
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Comments (8)
The description of the dandelion seeds is phenomenal writing Paul! Nicely done!
Felt as though I was in your head, Paul. Well done. And we're with you.
I loved how this read. The way you wrote this created a real sense of tension. Awesome!
This was so good Paul. I am so glad to be in such good company...whatever Paul you become; we will be better for knowing each aspect.
Well-wrought! Remember also that they will try to use your past against you as well, to make you think you can never change. Are they real demons or just aspects of yourself? Does it matter? Heed not their disgusting, contemptible voices, but rather that of the river of Eden which flows from your very own heart. Many blessing and much love, brother!
(Top Story content!!)
Beautiful! The use of the italics and other functions made it absolutely crazy to read. Felt on my toes the whole time, like I should be looking over my shoulder at something watching me. Perhaps a past version of myself. Uncanny!!
Identity can be as ephemeral as dandelion seeds--a compellingly unorthodox poem!