the art of transition from denial to petrification (symptoms of change)

“ misery rings in the hollow, increscent cracks of deteriorating pebbles that once claimed to be mountains; magnificent (as well as colossal) in the pride and size they imposed until the rivers weathered it away.

Isn’t that just terrifying? “

                                                              — me

I find it hard to comprehend

that there will be a moment

in which the tides grow weary

of unrivaled motion,

the sediments more compact

with a certain deceit,

and the sun yet again a

dimmer shade of bisque than

previous mornings.

I am terrified of the new blossoms

that hails the new air of

a dreadful February

with a fusillade of raw color,

like the piercing warmth

of the slick end of a shard

extracting blood through

a cataclysmic wound,

so quick that the pain is only

an afterthought.

I hate change.

The feeling of fingertips loosing

grasp of that tiny illusion

of control— bristling and paling,

driving me enraged and

desperate to the point of

making blossoms comparable

to broken glass,

and the disquieting stillness

of the ocean to

a restless individual

Repetition is the pale,

faceless expression of my abductor

who force-feeds the impression

of peace in the midst of

mere convenience,

the one who urges me to

remain complacent, never brave;

and i am quite sure that

it is the reason for my disquiet.

I have ensured bondage,

even after being shown potential

that rips at the very fabric

of my unhappiness,

yet I cannot imagine rearranging

a life that has brought me

so much comfortability that was

taught to veil timidity.

—

A rusty comeback poem? 🤷‍♀ who would’ve thought lol. however, I’m not back fully because my rl schedule is just getting busier :( I hope this makes up a little for the time I’ve been gone tho. also please excuse the lingering remains of my writers block.