Self Knowledge In the Aftermath

I remember now. Something was heavy, a winged dragon that refused to fly from my chest My eyes were secret mirrors, or a doomsday judge. I remember morning as a flighty horse, or like a new school year, that first careful sentence written on a page.   Time became a sequel. Roads were rootless trees racing by - Fog an x-ray – the night, annoying as a fly. I had a misconception and her assumptions followed every stray dog. I quivered hollow with a frantic yellow zest. I ate from a dish of nutmeg.   I woke to the sound of dying frogs, impossible spiders trapping rainbows in their webs, the nebulous orbit of knick knacks in the room, my reach too small for a mother’s heart.   Her seeds had such an element of surprise, her plum lipstick, the zing of frayed nerves she mocked death with a cup of sunshine she kept an artist’s palette - adding color to existence   Too late, the impossible demand on angels Each bitter thought the baroque decomposing of an empty optimism My keyless lock - emotion Premiere Contest number 12 Contest Judged: 9/24/2016 12:01:00 AM Sponsored by: SKAT A Placed 9out of 10 Entered in the Best Poem worthy of a Trophy I have entered this poem because it came from out of the ether. Some poems just do. Deeply felt almost not understood but felt on a visceral level. N/A’d