Boiling Point

A poem about feeling frustrated and helpless.

Boiling Point

Frustration wells within.

The cauldron of my heart bubbles.

The liquid seethes, hissing like a serpent

as the walls close in, slowly.

There are no doors.

Light is extinguished and with it, hope.

 

“Look to yourself,” my mind cries.

My heart hears it not.

It pounds wildly against the confines of my chest.

Like a child, it tries to block its ears

against a high pitched whine that tears through all barriers.

“I can’t hear you!  I can’t hear you!”

The clamor stops;

Amid the hush, tears fall like rain.

Reviews

[Sharon L.H. Kelly]

I could (and have!) feel it...the rapid rise and release of emotion was nailed in this piece!!

[Sharon Kim]

Thank you!

[linddsaay]

this is beautifully written. your talent for expressing the complex feeling that most everyone has experienced at one time or another is both relatable and intriguing. you have talent and i truly enjoyed reading this piece of work. bravo!

[Sharon Kim]

Thank you so much!