"I fancied daisies and sunflowers and roses and became enveloped in the thought that I, too, was like the rose. How naïve and betraying of me. I was the lotus all along." Me c. March 2021
There I was, sprawled on the field of grain,
The scene silent save for the roar
Of waves pushing against my subconscious.
The chirps of gulls are faint.
The yellow rays begin to dance
Across the crystal skin of the ocean
While the trees perform a ritual,
Bowing down to the invisible man.
A child begins to wail as if
Pained by the canvas, inconsolable
She was, dropping to her feet.
Plop she goes, the cries grew louder.
I ran over to her aid, instinctively
Picking her up for comfort,
and at that moment I stared
deep into her eyes
And noticed she was me.
YOU ARE READING
*Poppies and Ash*
PoetryA collection of confessional styled poetry written by the author which initially started as therapy to cope with her social anxiety and depression.
