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drift
into the vermilion sky.
when it’s this surreal,
there’s no need to ask
why;
the thoughts in my head, so venomous;
prevent me from wanting to try.

on a picnic-bench locomotive,
on a monorail 30 feet high.
“escape”
is the first word that appears here, yet it’s
“trapped”
that clouds my mind.

but now i found someone to break the mold
that my mantras have carved in my head;
and even though i am left out in the cold,
no one has left me for dead.

stare
into the vermilion sky.
when you feel so real,
there’s no need to ask
why;
the thoughts in my head, so hilarious;
prevent me from wanting to cry.
©2009 ~ilissaJ
:iconilissaj:

Author's Comments

english fiction poetry assignment
(was accompanied by two painting still in my english classroom... will post and link later.)

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May 15
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