Kryptonite, Mental Health

Slipping out of twilight’s swallow

No more, the fragile figurine
A damsel I played at twenty-three
Bewailing old-time wrecks
Shyness usually describes a
modest daughter
But I like crunching the shells

Forget-me-nots scattered at where I end, and another begins
Teeter tottering, a mechanism for equilibrium
Has been replaced with circling the well
For wishes are like rituals prescribed
When the highs and lows are unbearable and through a meaningless loop
Tell no one, for they might sneer and smear your name
Their sweet shared insincerity
are lampshades, to their white hot souls

She called me naive
Ha! All beauties are lures
Eyes are flowers, just blobs of brain on stem
The elaborated mating scheme,
As if he ever noticed my almond petals
Like the possibility of
various UFO shapes
All he saw were dark pools
To sink himself back in
And remind me of my insignificance
Now, onto your self-deprecating,
The hand washing

The abject fear,
My prickly mind taunts
In the same moment of reminding you to swallow your weakness, she says,
“Don’t be a pushover”

Art: Elentori Words: NaRa

 

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