The Slam: Slammables

back burner

by zelda-jonez, planet fridge

I’m hurting

yet every time I step outside

I pick up my boiling pot of confusion and self doubt

and put it on the back burner

in hope that my house won’t light on fire while I’m absent

 

(I’m the house)

 

but I feel more like a structure

a metal outline

cracked plaster and vacant bedrooms

 

no jewel toned abstract paintings adorn my walls

no spice racks, socks lying around, or sugar spilled beside the tea kettle

my only possession a faint promise of ‘someday’

the kind you use to keep your fragile mind from spinning into darker places

 

 

Author's Note: out of anguish comes art (hopefully this is enjoyable and
understandable) this is my first time in the Slam, so I'd love some
feedback! I know it's kind of short but still 

Slammings

The descriptive language in your poem is really something. My favorite part is ”but I feel more like a structure/a metal outline/cracked plaster and vacant bedrooms." 

critiqued by searchingatsea, A gas station in rural midwestern America
Jul 25, 2017