Growing Pains
By Caroline Hughes
My duffle bag
is full of outfits.
Each one a costume
for a new scene.
My binders
are full of papers.
Spilled contents,
overloaded brain.
My notebooks
are full of ink.
Lines that make a map
to somewhere.
My iPod
is full of music.
Words and rhythms
for mood swings.
My shoes
are full of feet.
They're connected to me,
and aching to go.
My heart
is full of blood.
I'm alive
and able to love.
My head
is full of me.
She's screaming and whispering,
kicking and sleeping,
jumbling up, sorting out,
trying to process
each object, sensation,
memory, fact,
opinion, and truth.
Will she ever get out?
We'll see...
I'm back! And I'm sorry I haven't commented on your previous posts, considering I just saw them, just now. But first off, your poem. I really like it. I like the sort of secret storyline that you're trying to convey. At least I hope there was a secret meaning. As for constructive criticism, maybe try to make more of a rhythm throughout. It reminds me of this book I just read a little bit. Well done. :)
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you enjoyed the Hunger Games. Cause i know I did! I agree with you on the content and acting, and I like your outfits. :) I just wish that the movie would have added, yes more Peeta and Katniss bonding, but also the ending where Peeta got a new leg and the Avox and getting fixed up on the plane, that was missing and I wasn't a big fan of the ending. But oh well. I can't wait for the sequal.