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The Difficult Kind
by Meghan HelmichTonight has already been born
in the back of this Chevy
and nothing is smart and shimmering
like you led me to imagine,
and I've held on to your hand until
my wrist ached more than my chest
after I polished off the rest
of your cheap cigarettes.
I will name the night Despair,
take her home in my sweater,
and feed her black olives
until everything really sinks in. 12/01/2011 Posted on 12/01/2011
Copyright © 2024 Meghan Helmich
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/01/11 at 10:51 PM There's a suffocating sense of silence that follows the end of it. That's the mark of an awfully damn profound piece of writing, if you ask me. |
| Posted by Shannon McEwen on 12/02/11 at 02:39 PM I think this is awesome, the images stick in my teeth like a peice of meat and linger there long after I've read it! |
| Posted by Mo Couts on 12/02/11 at 04:51 PM This is positively delightful! When I saw the title I knew right then I had to read it b/c the song of the same name came to mind. Awesomely done. |
| Posted by Sal Haefling on 12/02/11 at 08:24 PM luscious words...i crave more of this. |
| Posted by Lori Blair on 12/03/11 at 11:18 PM until everything sinks in..Excellent..I have been there, but I experience it again within your words! Excellent! |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 12/04/11 at 11:46 AM Naming and shaming the night -- more of this, and despair is driven to meltdown by shimmer... |
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