Collage 4

Her vacant mouth balances,

Corners scorched, an amalgam

Of lies and proximity.

She wears masquerades

In the company of strangers

And in the absence of friends.

Hurled into the faces of others

Tears can feel like gravel,

In the heart of the holder

They are bricks and walls.

An angel cheated

By the enclosure of time.

Despite all her nothings

The clock still notices.

Days fall into place like a fence,

Like feathers in a raven’s cloak.

Everything to gain in her freedom,

Her tentacled hands clutch

At devastation, at keepsakes lost,

At the ingress of human trash.




27 thoughts on “Writing Prompt #120 and Wordle #131

  1. that feeling… isn’t nice. Could really empathize with that feeling of human debris, where you put up accepted masks when you can and hurl parts of you at others when it fails; every day. I’m gonna go and stare for a while now. Really well written.

  2. So Many great phrases, as usual–I especially love, “tears can feel like gravel”–yes, indeed they can. And the final image of hand clutching at devastation and lost keepsakes….oh, the Ache! Okay, must catch my breath now–to say, Yay, another collage!!

  3. The way you use the tears is really cool.
    Rocks used to stone others or by ourselves as bricks to build walls.
    Also made me think of the things that we cling to, trying to hold onto
    something far too lost.

  4. “Her vacant mouth balances,
    Corners scorched, an amalgam
    Of lies and proximity” … Again, this is when you finally are able to shut yourself up, empty your mouth, straight-lipped (no smile, no frown, no emotion). Whatever it takes to keep the people happy.

    “In the company of strangers
    And in the absence of friends”

    “Days fall into place like a fence” … Oh, man. That is tight, girl. Phenomenal imagery.

    I love the way you make her morph: human, bird, sea creature.

    “human trash” … What a painful phrase to read. No one should feel like that, but if we are all honest, most of us probably do.

    The ending is fascinating … all the strange imagery. I’m thinking that she could just walk out the door and have an amazing life, but she doesn’t. She grabs onto everything awful and painful that she possibly can. I feel like this poem is basically about a woman who feels time closing in on her and is realizing that her life has essentially been worthless. I see a rocky marriage in this. But she’s learned to keep her mouth shut and carry on … just trying to hold things together for everyone else. And she knows that freedom doesn’t bring anything but different shackles. There’s no such thing as happiness, unless you create it right where you are. We are all the inventors of our own minds.

    1. Wow thank you so much for your amazing and entertaining comments. I think a lot of us do feel like that if not all the time certainly sometimes. When you think yourself worthless you tend to make your world very small and you miss out on a lot

  5. This is such a tremendous exploration of human emotions – the feelings of despair, longing, isolation – so very well captured and fleshed into reality. Another amazing write Yves!

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