I am not who I ought to be
can you see me now?
you are not allowed
to leave me hanging.
You are far away from me
but I'm so close
I can almost feel you near
taste the fear I want to buy.
Do you hear me coming?
my path is covered with redness
my soul is burning ice
darkness is in my eyes.
Leave me crying
trusting there is nothing
my arms are empty fields
my hands are filthy rags.
Do not come after me
make me want to believe
there is not anything here
something has turned wrong.
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Hi Jelena,
Thanks for bringing this compact but potent poem to my notice. You write well, considering English is not your mother tongue (the same is the case with me too). I liked your simplicity and economy of words, a touch of surrealistic images, and the twists in emotional content that pop up like friendly spirits in the woods! Keep writing.
Ciao!
Max
Beautiful poem, Yelena.
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