Misplaced & Misfit
Often my days feel grayscale;
And often these days are painful, or rather dull, like a butterknife.
Certain moments are alight in the color of beautiful, everyday happenstances
Yet it’s brief, like I’ll blink and it’ll be gone
Like a memory from childhood,
There for just a flash
Before I forget it even occurred.
So I try and wait patiently for these flashes of something,
These bursts of technicolor on my black and white television screen,
But I’m stuck as a monotone Dorothy in a beautiful Oz,
Misplaced. Misfit.
And in these moments filled with the entire rainbow,
Every shade in between,
I am awash with warmth
Enough to thaw my aching, frozen bones.
The one time I enjoyed myself the lovely herb of Mugwort,
I slept in a dreamless haze–
The opposite effect of mugwort, usually,
Which is known to incite lucid dreaming.
The whole time I slept, it was like watching dust in the sunlight float through a liminal space.
And with that, I wonder what it means
Since I dream every night, so vividly
Does mugwort give me a break?
Allow my tired, ever-creating brain some downtime?
Or does my consciousness go elsewhere?
Somewhere beautiful, somewhere to help?
I want to be beautiful, and I want to help.
And at times I wish to escape my cage of a body,
My cell of a vessel.
Astral project all the way to the moon,
Write poems on it’s pale face
Press my lips against her cheek,
Leaving a dusty lipstick stain.
Misplaced. Misfit.
I do not belong on the moon,
But I do belong to her.
Her faithful follower,
Her loving number one fan,
She is my favorite subject
Besides death, and love, and heartache, and bleeding
And all things that hurt too good to not write about.
I write incessantly at times,
Filling the void inside with flowery articulations of my innermost workings.
Until the void is no longer a void but a garden
And in that garden is of course lavender
But the lavender is dying.
And with the lavender’s imminent death comes much sorrow
And with much sorrow
Comes much poetry
Thankfully, at the very least
I will have a poem instead
Of a flower.
About this poem
A reflective poem on a period of struggle, and how my brain continues to black out the good times; But I am working on healing that aspect of myself. Sometimes, change is good.
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Written on March 23, 2023
Submitted by itsn1c0d3mu5 on May 03, 2023
Modified on May 04, 2023
- 2:01 min read
- 13 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | abcdefghicJkilcecahccamnoppqarcstJruuvwhxccyuhkkqz1 u |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,067 |
Words | 404 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 52 |
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"Misplaced & Misfit" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/158193/misplaced-&-misfit>.
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