by Aaron Blair
She's got a face like the Grand Canyon,
cracked, and life was a river through it.
I remember when she used to be beautiful,
a waif, a mermaid, the men swimming through her hair.
People like to tell me I look like her, the woman-child,
but I'm too Amazon for that. I could break her like a twig.
I try, but with words, and her ears are always closed.
Maybe one day I'll look like that, a wrinkled piece of paper
with not a single word written on it, a broken, blank slate.
You can still love a monster, and I always do.
I love every lie and every line. I love right through the hate.
Posted on 05/26/2005
Copyright © 2023 Aaron Blair
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 05/15/13 at 01:10 PM|
Amazingly raw, visual, an intense love/hate scenario. Congrats on POTD!
|Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 05/15/13 at 10:45 PM|
Glad this poem is here, I feel it in my bones.
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/18/13 at 04:30 PM|
I love the descriptiveness of this piece, Aaron. It's beauty mixed with shades of darkness. I had a similar epiphany many years ago, without the emotional attachement. Watching old stranges, their faces showing their years, and now I am becoming one of those people, but without regret. Thanks for the well worded reminder.
|Posted by Ava Blu on 05/19/13 at 02:30 PM|
In my opinion, this is the only poem in the top ten (right now) that deserves to be there and isn't there just because of the author. All of your poems are more than words, more than just raw talent, they give us something others can't give. Thank you for showing us the way.
|Posted by Tony Whitaker on 05/22/13 at 08:19 AM|
I wish i could create the visual which your wise words wield. So insightful, raw and real!