How wicked of a thought must you have to jostle a mind already organically filled with evil?
What is your terrible longing?
Piercing butterflies to save and study beauty you will never possess?
Plucking feathers from wee birds because you will never fly?
The truth is no matter how much you ply yourself with alcohol and other forms of courage I will always call your bluff.
You hit me in the face with your fistful of bad words but just what do you think you shall inflict on me with your vulgarity?
You are as threatening as a damp sweatshirt.
I am not afraid of you.
13 responses to “Sweatshirt”
Wow, a truly powerful poem. The images you draw with words are so vivid.
Thank you so much 🙂
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Nice use of metaphor Seeing alcohol as a kind of courage and bad words as a fist
We lash out at others, because of our own, insecurities that we are, having a hard time, overcome.
That can happen for sure.
Very evocative poem. People have power over us if we let them. Bullies use fear — standing up to them can take courage. The subject of the poem sounds like a throughly nasty piece of work!
Nasty piece of work indeed! Thanks for the visit and thoughtful comment, Lorraine.
M’lady … you continue to exhibit some gen-u-ine talent!
Oh, wow…thank you so much. I apologize for the delayed response but i really appreciate your comment.