melissaahowells
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I'm hollow.
I know of a certain emptiness. I've nothing to give If it is not wanted. Is it for men to fill me up, But men touch me not. They sample only from the surface, It is a disservice To me. To desire And not to be possessed. To un-love To be shunned To be not like the rest. To be sad To be an angry angry girl. Yes, takers took Permanently altering my world. So I bargain with myself, Hold on, Try not to shake. Hide away from these feelings, Knowing all the plans I cannot make. Tell me please How can I keep self-satisfied? When so many undeserving get What I myself cannot try. This is not about temptation. This is about tenderness. A burnt moth's disintegration, Is what the world is seeing... I am hollow I know emptiness. No oaths or vows No shrug or jest I need no hand-held mirror To see this ugliness. But feel its brand, though truth be told... I am a slave The scar is deep, The scar is old. Should I decide to fling it back Reverse the sling and arrows Name the lack? You'd simply live on And search until you found Your next new dying black swan. Copyright December 2008 All Rights/Ideas/Stories Reserved and are the legal property of this AUTHOR: Melissa A. Howells/Meloo from her Copyrighted site> Tilt-a-World Adendum /March 2013: Yes, to those/any who've asked. This is auto-biographical. And the idea for this came out long before that movie with the ballet dancer in the black swan wings and tutu. LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS WORK FOR THIS SITE TITLE BY THIS AUTHOR/WRITER MELISSA A HOWELLS Vote for this poem |
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