I write to find similarities between my own experience and the experiences of others. Hopefully my writing is pleasant to read. I love to put interesting words together. Striving for authenticity, my goal is to present poems that are real and relatable, not indecipherable. Read, comment, critique, enjoy. My old profile can be found at the link below. https://www.writeoutloud.net/profiles/alexandralorenz Subscribe to my Youtube channel where I do poetry, politics, and life. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCr_A_f9OG-B70hOWg-yIdBA
I was drowning in a lake with no water It was really a pit somewhere below my heart I lay still because I thought that might stop it from growing And in the nights, which became days, I swallowed my tongue Thick with evaporated words I could not speak, only moan And the pounding pounding pounding In my ears and in my chest Kept all the music from me So I kept on drowning in that bone dry Cavernous hole In silence and the dark One day They decided to save me They told me to write About what I meant when I said I was empty (as if the absence of a thing can be described) So I picked up a pen And wondered at its weight Which on that day seemed so great that as I lifted it my arm went dead I almost got through the first line Of a poem about a monster Until I remembered that my brain was play-dough And my fingers lead So I broke the pen between my teeth and Black ink filled the pit in my belly And I soaked each finger in boiling water So as to enliven them again Hating them and myself I tossed the shards of pen Into a grave I dug one day For such a special occasion As this And I imagined lying down In that hole in the ground With the bits of plastic And dark cold ink Clumped in my ugly short hair I decided I would need Someone to pat the earth on top of me So I went through the Rolodex in my head Of who would agree to bury me Soon I realized That I have no one Who hates me enough to kill me with anger or loves me enough to end my suffering And so I crawled out of the pit In which I chose to lie and covered it with flowers to mark where I almost chose to die Even now, though my stomach is no longer in my bowels, and my throat has widened enough that I can breathe I am still frightened. Frightened of the waves that almost took me under and the knowledge that you can drown on dry land
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
choice theory (04/07/2018)
This is not a poem (13/06/2018)
Ugly Beauty (21/05/2018)
I Came Here (26/03/2018)
Mislead Conqueror (20/03/2018)
Bone Dry Drowning (07/03/2018)
The Gardner (24/02/2018)
- 2016 - 2017 (2)
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