literature

The Roach Born to the Fly

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divafica
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Literature Text

The Roach Born
to the Fly/

She's not the product expected from your
legless desires.

Your inked smile couldn't mask your
furrowed brows.
Disappointment - don't be the clown.

Call her the runt of the little yet she's the flea upon it's back.
Funny how they can bite without their teeth.

S w a r m i n g.
Search her surface for the tell-tell crevices,
gravestones of destroyed infection.
(call her the cockroach that survived world war one thousand)
King of a wasteland. Why bother?

I suppose we just exist
until we don't.
Pretty dark, sorry about that. ^^;



More of my depressing poetry:

You and IYou and I:
We like to look at my reflection in gasoline puddles.
Your scrutiny sets me alight.

We live lapping up the snow that escapes our veins
And touching with our ice hands and walking with our ice feet.
(Despite this, our concaves burn like house-fires) Previous SelvesI was the fairy
with the twinkle in her toes.
She leaves twinkles of glitter
wherever she goes.

I was the ghost
with the gaunt little face,
She leaves blotches of blackness
all over the place.

I was the brownie
with the perfect intention,
She leaves parcels and presents
wherever you'd mention.

I was the imp
with the plans and the tricks,
She leaves clusters of chaos
wherever she picks.

But where would I be
without magic or might?
I'd have to be me...

Not a chance. Drowned in DecemberThey're wet (these short days),
yet superb: crisp chills; sweaters
and cheer enliven me.


AND A HAPPY ONE

Haikus are Too ShortHaikus are too short,
To be at all worth clicking,
So I'll write some more.

These words are filler,
So I don't feel truly bad,
For writing briefly.

I write re Haikus
In a Haiku, how clever!
I'm showing off now.
© 2013 - 2024 divafica
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