Week 178

Life assures me like cancer

that I am finite, farfetched,

suppressed as a simulacrum.

It’s not possible to think

about the present moment

when married to its vision.

Everything that exists,

exists on a continuum

of reflection and conjecture.

What was once transparent

is now rooted like granite

with splinters of chamomile

bursting free at the edges.

It only takes a thimbleful,

a single breath, a ray of light,

a drop of blood to get me going.

All humans are layogenic,

a sideways glance,

a bout of nostalgia,

a darkened room

with two sets of curious eyes

locked together in breathless limbo.

Once met you’ll discover me.

I’ll never give you what you want.

Worth is synonymous with depth.

My scars are carved, not painted

red and bold like lips on paper.

It’s the constant itching

that reminds me that I’m current.

Who would I be without

these disfigurements?

Never trust a smiling face,

it takes longer to heal

when the wound is uneven.

I am not autophobic just conscientious

I don’t want to be blinded by conceit,

to find myself adored

by a stranger with sticky hands

and a heart overflowing with forgiveness.

Love is permissive like a drug,

if I should ever taste it

I’ll forget to come up for air.

I must maintain my ego,

the cracks in my heart

where I keep my needle and thread.

A fairy must remain anonymous

if she is to conjure.

Who would I be without

this blessed and cursed veil?

I can smell the bleach on your skin,

the ritual cleansings

the fear that your hands

might communicate your true intent.

What you love most about me

has nothing to do with me at all.

tough one!




13 thoughts on “Wordle #186

    1. Miss Marble is a wonderful character and it is always a pleasure to read about her adventures. I often write in the first person but many of my poems are actually an exploration of the human condition so it’s not always true to life. Usually they are a mix of fact and fiction.

  1. I’ve lately been examining a lot of the harmful ideas that I learned at a very young age and trying to debunk them, both in order to make peace with my past and so these ideas don’t stick with me in my next life, as farfetched as that may sound. Your poem makes me think of my attempts to scrub these ideas from my being.

    1. I am reading a book on PTSD as part of my therapy but this isn’t the first time I have explored this area. Many years ago I read a book called Happiness is a Choice so I started to look at little more closely at my core beliefs, not just what I wanted to believe, not just the pretty things and it is quite eye opening and sometimes sad

    1. When I was scheduling this one for prompt it looked quite hard and I thought can I do this? What was I thinking?! So I had to try it lol I make my Wordles in advance and in big batches so I am usually surprised by the time they come around

  2. kaykuala

    Never trust a smiling face,
    it takes longer to heal
    when the wound is uneven.

    Love your brilliant wordcraft, Yves! The above is just an example. In fact, you have done extremely well all along the way throughout the poem.


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