What the hell are you doing?
He asks.
And she looks up at him,
not really remembering
who he is.
Cross-legged on the floor,
Scissors in her hand,
surrounded
by mutilated photographic pieces of herself.
Eyes
Mouths
Expressionless heads…
Macabre snowflakes
scattered
without reason.
She gives him an abstracted smile,
sees his eyes go wide,
wishes vaguely she could recall what this means..
What happened?
He asks.
She has trouble grasping the scissors,
and she doesn’t understand why.
They seem slippery
in her red hands.
What do you mean?
She replies,
I’m just looking for my face.
Note
Twitter
Facebook
Reddit
Digg
LiveJournal
MySpace
Report a Policy Violation
winter pictures 
the news article as well as check out the individual pieces. We understand that each day you may not be able to check out each and every one of the pieces, everyone has their own things going on. We just ask that you make an attempt to help support the growing Literature community.
Follow us on Twitter
Become a fan on Facebook
Comments
--
“Satisfaction is the death of desire.”
I think you have something good going. Make something in Photoshop thats a bit more abstract -- you'd like it.
--
Joe was here =]
--
~Elora
--
~Elora
I made something slightly more 'into' the poem. It has representation in both color and the words are just as poetic as the imagery.
Expand and enjoy!
(and comment on my poem too, if you like it
--
Joe was here =]
--
~Elora
--
~Elora
--
"the problem with resisting temptation is that you might not get another chance."-edwin chapin
--
98% of the teenage population does or has tried smoking pot. If you're one of the 2% who hasn't, copy & paste this in your signature
Previous Page1234Next Page