I Was My Imaginary

I was chained in a changeling body for some time. At day, I wrote
A-minus reverie essays and at night, I dripped from my petals and sang
pollen from my eyes. I could hear them ringing behind "It's just a
story, don't take it so seriously." Upon their foreign validation,
bees lingered like molasses morning stiffness, but slowly scattered at
the sound of footsteps. Heels tapped lightly on linoleum grass and
fingers rapped on wood grain glass. Some mornings there was a deer by my
bed. When I rose to pet it, it vanished.

Reviews

[Hello, Goodbye]

captivation notions

[Kestrova]

This is an incredible piece, wrought with amazing imagery and phrases that really make you think. I loved the first few lines, but they're only a small testament of how engrossing the entire poem is. Fantastic poem!