My So-Called Life

By: Cindy Moon

The quilts are stale.

My shining gold fingers are rusting.

The dolphin died- spin the dead bottle?

Somehow envoloping is off-kilter

Froggy sleeps on the happy face

The sarong is covering the wrong side.

Nekedness. White. Barren. Clean?

No, soiled.

A void, and in the closet a promise of pink.

A door is opened. A window is closed.

Piles of laundry lists.

Pandora’s box of more boxes.

Does this downward spiral ever

Stop?

Falling. Down. The stairs. What, what stairs?

The wedding is taunting me, as well as 5 year old me.

Ah, this reeks of wasted ink.

Spit. Mother! Nature. The clicks clacks of slippers

Invasion-trying to explain to the ignorant

While muse takes flight

I wake up to this organized dream

Of

Chaos.

A/n: I did not spell words wrong. Envoloping was my own word; which was derived from enveloping and elope. Nekedness is a substitution for Nakedness. It was a child’s portrayal of the word. Spit and Mother Nature are my euphemisms for some more “colorful” words. On the surface, the enhanced literal sense of this poem describes my room. But really, the bigger picture described can be the world.

*rants on about the poem, continue reading if you are interested*

For example, promise of pink(is in my closet) but also represents a feminist movement.