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Art and Poetry 11

Art: Amber - Poem: Drowning

Art by, matlocktheartist

She can teach herself anything. She can teach herself to sing. She can teach
herself to open up your box of secrets and spill the memories and things you keep
hidden inside. Without a way, that's what they say. The ocean collects the sand,
wipes herself clean of the sting of salt. It's not my fault. But I am guilty. Guilty of
what? Of not knowing what to say. Today...today she is strained, pained, numb. Or
is it dumb? They say I can't write/ but I will fight. Fight to fill my heart like an
ambulance in sirens screaming resonance.

I can't dance. So I will sing. I will sing and I will stop writing, just...argue my
case
to the face. The faces of the places where I can't be let in. The winners who score,
and what is it for? Watching the world, like velvet black. I am a vulnerable cat.
Meow. what now? I have screwed it all to hell. You can laugh. Oh well. Today is
cold, it's getting old. I have said things, to myself. To the words...which reflect
passion. My passion is passion. But I can't move, can't seem to believe. In the
sunshine there is a concubine. What's concubine? A line?

Today the sun is melting, today the world is dying. Today the world is a corpse,
squared///and no one dared/ I dare. I dare myself to go insane. And yet I'm plain.
It's so the same. Make it right...no...tonight. Just pain.
Drowning is the word to describe, what's going on in my mind. Great.

Peom by, Gabrielle

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