I Hate Artificial Glitter Poem by Erika Conti

I m the mother of your feelings

our irrational love generates

pretty monsters

and the hidden dreams and nightmares
revealed
make fantasies be real

impulsive needs expressed
free us from madness

as in autumn the dead leaves
rot into new life

there is no conclusion to this
only lazy awareness

polluted cycles still
keep rolling around
purified cycles still
keep rolling about

I m never bored
but surprises turn
into cold glass.

Glass is too fragile and
it cuts_Hearts bleed_
eyes get blind_Fury rises
to balance indifference.
I hate artificial glitter.