Leslie Blackwell Leslie Blackwell
Recommendations: 21

The passage from "I scream..." to "I am making no noise" seems to double up on the phrase "All around me nobody responds." It occurred to me that you might consider surmising with something like : "I try to scream but make no sound. No one can hear me. No one responds." (just my own opinion)

Leslie Blackwell Leslie Blackwell
Recommendations: 21

not to be pedantic but with the tears in the forest being caused by your tears it would probably be more realistic if they flooded the pathway other than fell into the forest where there are huge trees unless you were a giant. (just an observation)

Please login or signup to add a comment to this paragraph.


Add comment   Close
Clare Martin Clare Martin
Recommendations: 12

Fantasising


Share this writing


Link to this writing



Start Writing

More from Clare Martin

When Words Hurt Most
Pain Is Pain
Years
I May Have Been Happy
Never Closer

More Poetry

Deborah Boydston Deborah Boydston
Recommendations: 45
Murder in the Senseless
Leoni Carlson Leoni Carlson
Recommendations: 12
Expressivity
Aaron Greene Aaron Greene
Recommendations: 30
Author's Clog
Leonard a. Wronke Leonard a. Wronke
Recommendations: 23
JUST BECAUSE
Kitchera Hicks Kitchera Hicks
Recommendations: 11
soul mates

My fingers are reaching out to warmth
But are gripped only by the eternal chill.
Everything is hurting; the pain is slow
And all around me, nobody responds.
I scream, I yell as loud as my lungs permit me to
And not one head raises, which is when
I realize I am making no noise.  
Some worlds blind me to the one I live in,
Some wounds are not even bleeding.
Some days in these worlds last forever,
Yet most just don’t last long enough
And the pain of reality always breaks through. 1 comment


My voice is growing more and more frail.
The road I walk twists and turns every mile.
A mile into the walk, a beloved tree falls.
Two miles in, the river has gone too far down.
Three miles in, rain begins to fall into the forest,
Not from the clouds, but my eyes
As I see what I have to do to escape,
As I realize how worthless this walk truly is,
How I’m walking through a dying woods
Without a bow and sheath of arrows.
I will return home with no food, no happiness
And no relief. I twist the string around my tongue. 1 comment


But when the grass is truly a darker shade of green
And the tree’s coat is purple instead of bare,
When the wind carries the cashmere scent of my hair
Through the forest, when my quiver hangs on my back
And my bow is gripped between my darker fingers,
I see worth. I see a will to keep breaking on through.
I feel stronger, I feel fresher, and even in my head
I realize how deep into this world I’ve fallen.
The throbbing wounds of depression have dissapeared,
The pain of reality has ceased, and I feel alive.
But what will it take to draw me away? When will I return?
What will the world hold for me when it opens my eyes?
When will I return? 1 comment


Link to this writing

Share this writing


Next: Chasing rainbows