Too Clever To Be Caught

 

I yield, she is a formidable foe. Her slender hands proffer

 

a paper crown for the brow of my spinning silly head.

 

I often find her lurking in crowded rooms where sinister social circles giggle and hiss.

 

I spy her bearing down on me from the ceiling as I lay, hopeful

 

for sleep, in the quiet of my bed. She strangles me

 

in silence and hammers at my heart, careful not to leave a bruise.

 

I get pinned to a white washed wall and then splattered like bad art. I want to send her

 

soaring through the gaseous thin atmosphere, revel

 

in seeing her disappear. Too clever to be caught

 

she hides in my tear ducts, my adrenal glands, and in the drumming

 

inside my ears. She has been with me

all of my life.

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About theminstrelscitadel

In search of courageous souls who aren't afraid to dig a little deeper and have a conversation about all manner of things. Rant, rave, debate, discuss... let's do it!
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2 Responses to Too Clever To Be Caught

  1. Oloriel says:

    This was a fantastic read! As I was reading I felt as tho I am transported into the scene with the wall, and the art. This :”I often find her lurking in crowded rooms where sinister social circles giggle and hiss.” was such an intruiging and powerfull sentence, I imagined a room full of people, all dressed up expencive and shiny, hissing with snake tongues.

  2. theminstrelscitadel says:

    Good poetry and bad art, I can deal with that. You have my thanks. 🙂

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