Blog Post 3.2
SIMILES
As empty as an egg shell
As weak as the dying
Gathered together like hibernating birds
As rough as love
Trembling like the strings on my guitar
Praying like a new widow
Bouncing like club music
Smiling like the crescent moon
METAPHORS
Heart of glass
Mountains of laughs
War is time
The ocean is a wishing well
The moon is the smile of the sky
This house of lies
My love is the box you should handle with care
Writing is dancing with our hands
POEM
And I can’t seem to find the right way to dream
Under the smile of the sky; the moon shines bright
I sense the vibrant essence of the crescent,
And it keeps me alive.
But my bones shiver.
My body trembles like strings on a guitar.
It plays a sad, sweet melody
And cracks my glass heart.
My love is the box that should be handled with care.
Package my dreams and vacantly stare.
No responses yet