Smoke

Small poem about getting rid of sorrow. [I really like it, hope you do as well.]

Dissiapointment isn't the word but it's sad,

I'm dragging on this cigerette to relieve the stress.

Your touches are guilt stained.

I'm swelling up,

About to bust

but tears can't roll down my cheeks.

So here is the last resort,

popping pills in socially accepted ways.

We've all got pity parties & grief.

Waking up,

put a smile on that pretty face.

Just pick your sweet, sweet lie

To escape my piercing blue eyes.

Author's Note

Tell me what you think.

Reviews

[Aussie]

Ahhh! I LURVLES this one. And lets make that clear; I do not like it,I do not love it,I lurvles it!

[Chloe Christine]

Oh, I like this one so much.
It's similar to the things I've done. The things I've resorted too..
One of my very favorites.

[Scarlet Pulse]

Wow, that was intense. I really enjoyed this poem. I think there are a lot of good examples of imagery, and your language is consistent throughout the poem. What confused me a little is the different tenses you use during the poem. Good job.

[mondayheadache]

I like this one....the last few lines I take as putting on a facade to avoid judgement. It reminds me of how we hide who we really are or feel, in order to not rock the boat. I hope this wasn't way off. Anyways, nice job.

[MattWheatus]

This is fantastic - part defensive, part vulnerable, totally readable. It's a challenging concept to address; how to cope with sorrow (or at least to appear to cope until the pain dissapates). Brilliant piece.