Poetry

Deborah Emmanuel

This amazing woman came to our school to perform her poems today.
Her poems are beautiful.
Just,
Beautiful.
The poem the link brings you to is something really true; many things in life are not what they are romanticized to be.

My favorite one is Imperfect, but she doesn't have it on her blog yet. Hopefully, it will be so in the future. :>

Today was absolutely phenomenal.
I ended up on the thin suspended line above the sea of sobbing out loud.
I couldn't relate that well, but the feelings behind Imperfect is what I used to feel.

See, that's the thing about poems and works of writers.
They can contain feelings so raw, so real, that it pains you to think of how they were dragged, ruthlessly, across the rough and uneven road, all the while trying, with much effort, to untie the heartless rope that binds them to the perpetrator.
Meanwhile, the skin tears and rips under the great speed and friction.
Meanwhile, the heart screams for it to stop, but the mind remains blank, dumbfounded by the pain.
Meanwhile, the trip across the surface of the road sometimes reduces us to bones, leaving a corpse that twitches slightly before it's very last bit of soul wafts off.