Photo by Brooke Shaden
“Vanity is becoming a nuisance, I can see why women give
it up, eventually.
But I'm not ready for that yet.” ― Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye
But I'm not ready for that yet.” ― Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye
It is I who cuts myself
into a thousand miseries.
I am pottery painted
by every word I pull
through the glass.
An aged vessel, I search for flaws,
dividing myself by scars, and
yesterday’s photos…
a seeker of lost ignoring found.
Gratitude prods me to look
deeper than vanity’s gnawing hound,
but I’m too human to not wish
the calendar wasn’t turning me
into a dried apple.
©Susie Clevenger 2022
"into a thousand miseries."
ReplyDeleteNicely stated
Happy you dropped by my blog
Much❤love
I love the honesty of the pained voice in this poem, Susie! Despite the fact she's torturing herself, it's so beautifully written. I love the phrase "vanity's gnawing hound," it's so appropriate! <3
ReplyDeleteNo way will your radiant face ever resemble a dried apple. Smiles.
ReplyDeleteUniquely powerful imagery of self-inflicted pain in the first two stanzas, barely skirting despair. So well crafted. I especially like the turn of perspective and also wry humor in the closing stanza. ❤️
ReplyDeleteYou are no dried apple, woman. You are a plum! (And you are the featured poet at the Word List this week. I am putting it together right now.)
ReplyDeleteI absolutely love this poem Susie. I can relate to it deeply and the imagery is perfection from the glass! I agree with Shay, you are no dried apple my friend. You are a gorgeous plum and so is your poetry!
ReplyDelete"I am pottery painted
ReplyDeleteby every word I pull
through the glass." Oooh! Oooh!
Women know so many ways to hurt themselves. You will never be a dried apple, always a rosy peach!
ReplyDelete