Saturday, January 21, 2012

Dried Up

I spent the morning judging poetry for the school's poetry competition, Last Poet Standing. It inspired me to post the only poem that I have ever written. It came in a time of great frustration, but I like it. It's strange; I feel like I'm exposing a small bit of my soul to the world. I guess that's what poetry is--the embodiment of the soul. In any case, I hope you enjoy it. [Update: This poem was accepted to be published in Juxtaprose, BYU-Idaho's poetry journal! Hooray!]


Dried Up
by Kiah Carroll


You look across the room
And you’re falling.

literally

The sight of her makes you falter
And your feet turn into luke-warm jello.
The ground is a welcome home.
You press your face into the plush carpet
In hope that she will one day 
Reciprocate the on-goings of your soul.

The sound of her voice,
That angelic noise, floods through your skin
And speeds through your veins,
Filling every inch of your body with warmth.

her every word
every sentence
every insight
sets your heart on fire

Your mind is baffled.
No logic could justify the way you feel,
But you couldn’t imagine being without her.

you want her
need her
by your side
always

She is everything you have ever wanted,
And you are fascinated.
You have spent months analyzing her every move.

watching her
cry
smile
laugh
yell

But you did it passively.

You watch her now from the floor,
Peering up through the carpet’s fibers,
Waiting for her to kneel by your side
And crawl into your open arms.

she would fit nicely
picture perfect
almost


I wish I could make you happy.
I wish I could run to your tree-sized arms
And feel protected from the world.

but my legs are broken
and my wishing well is dry

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