My Prismed Prison

I grew up in your bubble of color

You painted me as the daughter

And you the mother 

You were made of prismed veins,

Glass kisses, and rain

And I was just a negligible stain 

You never expected me to grow up 

Just to stay as your little pup

And drink out of your stained glass cup

You weren't so impeccable after all 

I tore away the paintings that made up your walls 

And this time I won't be here to put you back together when you fall

Author's Note

I have to give this Spanish teacher I hang out with some props. We shall refer to her as Senora, but she came up with the title and helped me make a change to my poem because it started as "you were made of cellophane, glass kisses, and rain." but she told me to get rid of cellophane since it sort of fit, but not exactly.

Reviews

[Felecia]

I love the word choice in this poem. The way you chose them and how you put them in the piece was excellent and painted this amazing imagine. That's awesome that you're Spanish teacher helped you with this (I've never shown a teacher any of my poems or writing before >.

[Rhea752]

Thx :) she's not my actual teacher though... I just hang out with her

[Felecia]

haha, well still, it's pretty cool :)

[Rhea752]

ya :)

[Aehr]

I loved the rhythm of the poem. It flowed like water. :) And beautiful imagery. A great write just as always :D

[Rhea752]

Thank you : D

[Aehr]

anytime! :D

[absent]

I read some intense bitterness in this poem, very emotional. There's some great imagery here, and I love that you kept up this glass-and-paint symbolism throughout. Very impressive!
I do think that the poem, because it's kind of written in story format, could benefit from some punctuation, a period here, a coma there. Punctuation is an overlooked, but very important aspect to poetry.
Good write!

[Rhea752]

Thank you :)

[Tai Ryens]

'Twas and still is often said that you become what you never were; in this case, your own persona. I could sense your deeply embedded, caged heart pleading to be free, and when begging works, not, the darling heart slips out herself and escapes into the air. But who would be the body from whom you soar away from? Your mother?
I particularly like this concept, because I myself have felt similar emotions.

[Rhea752]

Thanks Tai :D

[Lina Grey]

"You were made of prismed veins,
Glass kisses, and rain
And I was just a negligible stain "
this is gorgeous. i love your word choice and the flow of this. Senora made a good call about the cellophane. brilliant write Rhea :)

[Rhea752]

Thank you very much :) I agree that Senora is brilliant

[Lina Grey]

I think that might be a requirement for language teachers...