wolfycat

Feb 21, 2011 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

The Wounds Of A Friend

She was as effervescently complicated
As a bottle of cheap, pink, sparkling wine.
But, if eyes are windows of the soul,
Her vacant orbs told a tragic story.

I was often vaporized in her endless agendas,
Left behind in her angry, dust storms,
Spun furiously in her lethal tornadoes,
And burned completely, by her acid rains.

No one was exempt
From her pious arrogance
That had bought a home
Behind her cold eyes.

Flowers wilted in her path.
The moon lost its glow.
The sun buried itself behind dark clouds,
And, the day turned into night.

Though, I escaped her fermented grasp,
Her claw marks left deep gouges in my heart,
And etched cavernous wounds in my soul
That only time could heal,

And it did,

And, this is my revenge.

2 ~ 2011

About This Poem

Last Few Words: Please feel free to critique:)))

Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft

About the Author

Country/Region: USA

Comments

weirdelf

14 years 4 months ago

Actually she sounds great to me

a woman who takes shit from n0-one. Destructive, mean, but protecting herself in a mans world.

My only suggestion is give her a bit of credit for it.

wolfycat

10 years 5 months ago

greetings

Thank you for your input.

Being vulnerable can be a frightening thing.

Wolfycat

Geezer

14 years 4 months ago

In order...

to let this flow a little bit better, I offer a few little changes. You might say:

And [seriously] burned by her acid rains

No one was exempt from [the] pious arrogance
that had bought a home behind her cold eyes

And day turned into night

Though I escaped her [tormenting] grasp

Her claws left deep gouges in my heart

And [slashed] cavernous wounds in my soul. [etched] seems to say just superficial

That only time would heal

It has...

This is my revenge

Just suggestions... ~ Geezer

wolfycat

10 years 5 months ago

greetings

Thank you for your suggestions!

I appreciate your time.

Wolfycat

Candlewitch

14 years 4 months ago

I was often vaporized in her

I was often vaporized in her endless agendas,
Left behind in her angry, dust storms,
Spun furiously in her lethal tornadoes,
And burned completely, by her acid rains.

and...

Though, I escaped her fermented grasp,
Her claw marks left deep gouges in my heart,
And etched cavernous wounds in my soul
That only time could heal,

WOW! it sounds like you knew my mother (and I use the term loosely!) This is the way to pen your rage... so eloquently. I have no suggestions.

love, Cat