Bad Memories. Poem by Imogen Lee Greene

Why do I punish my self? My calves are burning like tandoori chicken,
Walked through each the dead ends I could find
I finally slump myself down on a large bumpy rock
Staring out at this mass of generic countryside,

It comes down like a grand piano of the top of a sky scraper,

Out of control, shake, tremble, I’m unreal, I’m dying and going crazy

I can see it, every single splinter of oak, each key of solid spruce

Scrawled across a busy road, cars swerving,

They can’t stop in time, It’s not about how I feel anymore.

~

Pulled out of existence, beauty that isn’t fictional

See it for your self.