Paper world

origam

Her world is a fragile, paper one.

It could blow away 

In one gust of air.

It could disintegrate into ash

With the introduction of one lit match. 

It is as unsteady as a house

Built from autumn leaves.

But despite all its flaws,

it is the only world she has.  

© 2020 Leona Petrovic

Image Credit HERE

Too Much Sunlight

roses

You are the sun, and I am the rose,
reaching my arms for your warmth,
soaking it in, not realizing yet,
that too much is too much, and
my leaves are crumbling to ash.

People often caution against
“Too much of a good thing.”
But what if that “good thing” was never good?
What if I just thought it was?

Image Credit HERE

Prodigies of Pain

Why is it that the only talent,

we are all born with

is the innate ability

to cause pain.

It can lie hidden for years,

or allow itself to be coaxed out

by circumstances.

We are all convinced

of our humanity, our goodness,

we tell ourselves that our gods

are on our side.

But didn’t all conquerors and kings

think the same?

 

 

Waiting for Spring

The ice upon the ground,

Has traveled up my spine

And filled my ears and mouth.

Waiting for a spring

I know will never come,

I watch as life drips by

Yet cannot make a sound.

Avalanche

I.

I cannot breath nor hear nor speak.

Your words fill my

Mouth and my nose.

Your voice fills my ears.

Trapped beneath this

Weight that buries me

There’s only the fear

You instill

And a rapidly shrinking

Air supply.

II.

It’s only when you have been

Buried by an avalanche

That you begin to know the truth.

White is the color of hell.

Independence

Image result for independent girl abstract painting

Never depend on anyone for your happiness.

Being independent is more than being strong or being single.

It means that if you cannot satisfy yourself.

Then you are not independent, because you rely on others,

to make your life worth living.

Ocean Waves

Image result for ocean waves and girl abstract art

She watches the ocean waves,

she wants them to wash her clean.

Wash them all clean; everyone.

If they could just flood the earth,

wipe the dirty off the world and leave the clean.

Sweep away the blood and pain.

Maybe they could start anew?

Or would they go back to the hate,

the anger and the shit she has to deal with now?

“Heal us,” she begs to the blue water.

“Heal yourselves,” it whispers back.