January 24, 2018

of my return

I am missing you

numbers course through my veins
dates and times I cannot forget
no matter how many
spoonfuls of sugar I swallow

place cardboard cut-outs
over my eyes, love
maybe then I will remember how to
open my heart
to allow the happiness in
and let the angst trickle out

realign our shadows and just maybe
I will feel your lungs overlap mine
helping me breathe a little clearer
and shaking out
the stiffened parts of me

1 Comment on of my return

  1. The poem is passable in the ‘bare nutrition needed to live sense’. I dare say that this Flaneur site put it up because it wouldn’t make them look bad. The wording, allegories and metaphors are bad to the point of incomprehensibility and confusion. I do not know whether the lover is there or off fighting dragons. Why should I care about this lover? What makes him great? What makes my affection genuine?

    The last stanza is the worst of it. While I can imagine being close to the dragon-fighting lover would be awesome, I cannot imagine his shadow having any import. People do not breathe well when they are truly in love, or even experiencing a crush. The closer I get my brain fogs my palms sweat and I would FAIL an IQ test, should one be presented. I’m sure everyone’s different, but I am not satisfied with shadows. I cannot eat the shadow of a hamburger. While Poetry may be used as an excuse, it is a poor one and I will not except it.

    Lastly over all feeling. The writer oscillates between being in lovelorn desire for their missing lover then unable to open their heart to them then being satisfied just in their shadow. To which I would advise ‘get some bipolar medication you stereotypical Tsundere’ And to the lover, ‘dump this broad and get a lover who will be honest to you.’

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