Saturday, November 20, 2010

Until it pours again...

It pours on me
The skies open...
on purpose, I'm convinced.
And I'm gasping for a single breath
without choking on it all.
And the drops pelt every inch of me.
Until I can not bear another sensation
On my skin.
I feel like clawing at my body with the very
maddening nature of it all.
Then with an almost audible snap
it shuts.
I dry slowly with time,
Then just to be cruel--
am not given a single drop more--
till my dryness is slightly uncomfortable.
Then nearly unbearable.
Where all my skin feels chapped.
And I imagine that all of it will chip away.
And I'm completely stagnant
Not wanting to move for fear of drying out further.
It's then that I think of you.



  1. You're so talented. I love the raw emotion that you put on the page for us. Wishing you a wonderful Thanksgiving Jillien. Keep writing and feeling like you do. You have to keep that creative spark in you going. I believe in you!

  2. Interesting poem and a likewise journey through temperature and change.


    Mark Butkus

  3. Hello.
    Nice imagery & flow. Thanks for sharing.

    Her Perfumed Scent


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