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Ultimatum to the contrite darling
by Meghan HelmichTonight I will cry
until all of my furniture is submerged.
Until my sheets float around me
like butterflies in a washing machine.
Until the drywall starts to soak through
and the brick work sweats.
Until every inch of my outside
matches the water inside.
Until we are surrounded by sea
and the coastlines blur.
Until you are not the buoy I swim towards.
Until I stop reaching. 12/07/2011 Author's Note: It's been a little while. Feels like months. Unsure about this one.
Posted on 12/08/2011
Copyright © 2024 Meghan Helmich
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/08/11 at 03:40 AM It's unreal how much this covers, how much this suggests and even how much might be written after the last line. This was wonderful. |
| Posted by Mo Couts on 12/08/11 at 03:00 PM Gabe covered all the bases with his comment; this is awesomely done my friend. |
| Posted by Sal Haefling on 12/08/11 at 04:07 PM I definitely want more of this poem. I think more stanzas would make me even happier :) |
| Posted by LK Barrett on 12/08/11 at 08:27 PM Love this cosmically damp epistle and the potentially massive pun and resolution in the last two lines. Love, love, backstroke, love......lk |
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