Vacuum
There are no walls here,
Only glass.
And beyond it there are hills,
Tall, brown, dipping low
Like the highest wave
Riding an ocean.
There is no sound here,
Not a footstep,
Not a whisper,
Not a lone, unfinished laugh
Suspended in midair,
Unsure whether it should
Touch glass and break into
A million sounds of an echo,
Or remain fragmentary,
Forever hovering between
A heartfelt cackle
And an unwanted giggle.
There are no walls here,
Just glass
And an odd number of hills,
Flowing like silk
Drying on a clothesline
Under the sun,
Kissed by a breeze.
And there is no sound here,
Not even of an indecisive laugh,
Halfway from completion;
Not even one
As halfhearted as this.
ABOUT
Reads more like catharsis than poetry. I like a couple of images in there, but ur usual power is missing. Dark, very dark, but a little bland too…kinda like diet chocolate cookies.
7.5/10
I loved some of the images in this - it’s a mood-shifter, this piece is, so that’s good. Very dark and mysterious.