by Ava Blu
i am a foreign object.
i am here just swaying back and forth, waiting to be destroyed.
i am a whole piece of a fruit
and i have been divided into sections because people can't figure out how to have me whole.
i am this foreign object dangling towards people.
towards a room, an empty closet, a stack of dirty laundry.
i am this foreign thing.
it is not to be confused with having a foreign object inside you.
no, this is not that.
there are corners inside me, rough edges, spaces unoccupied or occupied by too much.
there are pieces in there just roaming about,
little seeds inside of the fruit.
i can't seem to ripen and i don't seem to mold.
there's something stuck in between the black and white,
like something stuck between your teeth.
and they pick and they prod and they speculate all around me.
and i talk to myself out loud thinking maybe something will bounce off of these white walls
and cut me into something else.
but that's a lot of somethings and second chances don't really exist.
no, i am this foreign object.
i am this fruit.
i am moving around the floor, i am finding traces of everything i ever did.
it's stuck in my seeds.
and those seeds are my babies,
my tiny babies and even they feel foreign.
i don't think i can ever stop moving.
Posted on 07/21/2015
Copyright © 2020 Ava Blu
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Paul Lastovica on 07/22/15 at 03:08 AM|
'waiting' is a killers killer - it consumes all, gives one a completely unnecessary amount of time to get all morbid in their thoughts, to become stranger to self and all others; to become 'foreign'
Movement is the option of choice; it helps pass the waiting. Move along, and onward, as needed.
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 07/24/15 at 12:21 AM|
Pretty cool. Love that last part about "traces of everything I ever did .... stuck in my seeds". I like how you keep things in motion in this- unsettling and fascinating. Thanks!
|Posted by George Hoerner on 07/27/15 at 01:26 AM|
Really very well done lady!!
|Posted by Anita Mac on 08/20/15 at 02:15 AM|
This was a both a joy to read and entirely unsettling. It leaves me restless. But then, don't you always?
|Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 11/16/15 at 12:04 AM|
Yeah, I can relate. In my case I'm frozen unable to move. How strange a calm -(reading)this- gives me.
And, like Anita, . . . yeah again
|Posted by Richard Vince on 08/08/20 at 12:54 PM|
"i am finding traces of everything i ever did" - yes. i know how that feels.