Scrap

A Poem by Alana

A thing I wrote recently...

I do it on paper--
vent--
after I have sharpened the pencil
to a pointy spear,
any carves man would be proud to see

It begins as a gentle stroke,
soft and smooth,
but, as my mind recalls the pain
the lines are drawn
deep, rigid and coarse

The pretty face,
sketched in gray
becomes black,
charcoal,
ugly

No longer able to look
at the piercing eyes,
jumping out of the page,
scolding me for being irrational,
I rip her out of my notebook,
and curse her,
“Screw you“, I say.
You do not know me.
You do not know why.

© 2008 Alana

Author's Note

I rarely write poetry. So this is more of an experiment, if you will.

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Reviews

thecoolone52

ohhhhh i really liked it........ its like your yelling at your self kind of... cause your hand is doing things you cant controll??? Am i right on this??? Anyway thats really good and i enjoyed that