The Amaranthine Poet

We Are Blurs

September 21, 2009 on 12:37 am | In Everything | Comments Off

There is something in heavy rainfall that
Makes you estranged
When sound is caught
In the tangles of roaring wind
And
We are blurs
I had a dream once that
I opened my door
And the world was filled with blood
And blood painted the clouds
A rusted orange
And darkened damp alleyways
Where little fingers were maimed
By teeth that are blunt.
Not sharp
Because
Monsters don’t look
Like silhouetted,
Leafless trees
And limping shadows.
They don’t spread out their
Skeletal wings
And scrape against the red ochre sky.
Monsters don’t have
Layers of eyes
And a heaving voice.

Monsters hide.
Behind the cream of blushing cheeks
And eyes that smile with the laughing
Mouth
Behind radiating words
That flitter down
Like golden cinders.
They hide their forms
Against the grainy colors
Speckling the air
Which appear as you stare into blackness
And you realize
You’re standing so close to them
Staring into the vacancy
Where the soul and heart should be
But instead
You find the monsters there.

- Jenna Awad