the writer
-name: Adrea-age: timeless
-gender: a lone girl on a blank page
-interests: reading, creative writing, imagining, mathematics (calc especially), and living this dream you call my life.
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Layout by: ...araglas
the past scribbles
November 12, 2006
Whirlwind
She tips her crown a bit over her eyes
to give it that mysterious feel.
Iced fingers run down pristine curls
only to flick them at the lowly flies
who dare to venture near her.
If only they knew the fate they faced,
landing on her tacky mask,
Swept up in the whirlwind,
only to be rejected at first signs of boredom.
Black hole, she engulfs everything
discriminating and evaluating,
pounding your flaws into glass shard-covered grounds
because that mirror shattered under her
level gaze.
Four eyes, two in the back -
just in case.
Knives can only melt with the heat
she's never let you feel.
And you shiver and keep your eyes down
because you know if you gain her interest,
You will be flotsam to her three-mast ship.
to give it that mysterious feel.
Iced fingers run down pristine curls
only to flick them at the lowly flies
who dare to venture near her.
If only they knew the fate they faced,
landing on her tacky mask,
Swept up in the whirlwind,
only to be rejected at first signs of boredom.
Black hole, she engulfs everything
discriminating and evaluating,
pounding your flaws into glass shard-covered grounds
because that mirror shattered under her
level gaze.
Four eyes, two in the back -
just in case.
Knives can only melt with the heat
she's never let you feel.
And you shiver and keep your eyes down
because you know if you gain her interest,
You will be flotsam to her three-mast ship.
1 Comments:
Goodness, this is a powerful poem. Whoever you're writing about-- she seems really terrifying. I absolutely adore the imagery in this. The ship idea at the end is really cool, but a little unexpected. Maybe I'm just a sucker for extended metaphors.
I really like it, though. I love the mirror and knife part.
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