Never

I have never been called a crook
but I remember the crook of your
smile like a detour sign I failed
to yield to,
sometimes I imagine car crashes
like foreboding day dreams ,
stolen moments of peace
that keep my jaw stiff and
eyes fixed,
I have never been called star struck
but I remember the cosmos in the aquamarine that surrounded your pupils,
drowning in them like a bobbing apple
ready to be picked by hungry teeth,
I have been called sharp,
yet somehow never noticed how sharp
your tongue was or how cold your
body of water could be,
I have been called many things,
some true and some empty,
I remember my wounds, my
war cries , but I am
many things learned and a pulsing
warning,
I am peaceful mourning.

Author's Note

I am new and hoping for some feedback.

Reviews

[Stephanie]

This is one of my favorite things that I have read in a long time. The imagery, the rhythm of your words, the way you transition from this state of awe and admiration to being hurt by that same person you once admired. Such a powerful piece, thank you for writing this.

[Onlyme]

I adore the way you express yourself inside this poem, great job and excellent poem in general.