Itís the end of the semester and emotions run high in the hallowed halls of graduate school.† Most of those emotions are not pleasant ones: panic, stress, worry.† Finding it impossible to think happy thoughts, these poems are, consequently, not happy poems.† Thereís a certain kind of release in writing bitter words; I find it more therapeutic than throwing pillows against the wall or taking long walks.
†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††† Meagan Morash
You call this a relationship?
Cool, dark night
Bright flashes of light in a strangerís eyes
The promise of warmth lures me from my chill solitude
My conscience flutters its weak wings
But languid warmth and flickering flames entrance,
Blocking all else
You draw me, moth-like, to your flame
And the temperature rises
Attraction canít be fought
††††††††† Even when it starts to hurt
††††††††† Even when the pain is a constant
I fall, a voiceless, thoughtless shell
Charred by your embrace
Denying the source of bruises and blood
Your light dims; you walk out
Iím left, broken and burned
Yearning for your familiar, searing touch
Yet fighting to mend in the cold dark
You place it in the coals to heat to your satisfaction
With every word and action you stoke it higher and hotter
††††††††† in order to mold it your own ends
Suddenly it is uncovered and
its blinding white brilliance mutes you
you can do nothing
but cry out,
as it turned against you
and sears your soul with an everlasting memory
You leave behind waves
Of grief and pain
Tossed on a sea of thousands of tears.
Now I add my salt to this ocean
and the water level rises.
Maybe someday it will
Catch up to you
And drown you
in the realization of
All you have done.