Poetry is turning out to be a very cathartic medium, I should do this more often.
Here silhouette stood strong and independent,
The rays of her being blinded me.
Every curve was a winding road,
And oh how I was yearning to travel.
She didn't turn my way when I called out,
Diving into the sea of her own confusion.
Swimming into the wave of insecurity,
I was helpless to save her from drowning.
Before she was swallowed by the crashing of emotion,
She let out a cry that was heard around the world.
My ears began to bleed from the sorrow,
Not a one of us were free from her pain.
I wish to swim and recover her body,
Perhaps a memory of that silhouette remains.
Is she worth traversing those icy waters,
Or will the weight of what is lost drag me down?
No, I say it again with a fervor unyielding,
We must face the frozen waves of our fears.
I'm worth it, you're worth it, and she is as well,
Just be wary that she is drowning.
A Rough Patch
Though I may expand upon it later, I'd like to be concise here; I wrote this poem after observing a romantic interest of mine standing at the edge of a pool with the sun setting in the background. At first I thought to myself, "My God, this woman is one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever laid eyes upon," but then I realized that her beauty was a blinding force. I looked away, stood up, and plunged myself into the freezing pool in the hopes it would sober me up.
The cold water reminded me where I was, and that this pretty distraction was probably nothing more than that, and so back into the blistering cold of my own thoughts I went. I'm in a rough patch, but I'll claw my way back out, or take my own life trying.
© 2021 Kyler J Falk