Poetry Blog by Penelope Overman
A Shell
I stare at the empty shell in the mirror.
Is this what I am now?
My flesh tainted,
clothes tight and suffocating,
nothing looks right anymore.
My hair falls in the wrong ways,
my makeup is now a mask.
I am numb.
I am blistered and broken.
Nothing is real anymore.
I look away,
and once again
I am encased in the hopelessness
of this damned shell.
Monday 4th June 2018 11:06 pm
The Devil
His touch is revolting,
hot. agressive. forced.
His breath rancid,
moist. surrounding. tainted.
His saliva was acidic,
impure. contaminated. corrosive.
I push away,
but I am overruled.
My skin is burning off at his every touch.
I shake
as my flesh melts off my skeleton.
Looking down at myself,
I see a shell of who I once was.
I peer into his dark,
empty e...
Monday 4th June 2018 11:03 pm
Recent Comments
Zahir Sookoor on A Shell (Wed, 6 Jun 2018 11:22 am)
Hannah Collins on A Shell (Tue, 5 Jun 2018 10:49 am)
Darren J Beaney on The Devil (Tue, 5 Jun 2018 08:10 am)
keith jeffries on The Devil (Mon, 4 Jun 2018 11:16 pm)