writing with lynn!!

composition - POEM - fiction

heya!! this was my first ever poetry piece. i have always had negative feelings about poetry until actually writing it! This one's called 'FOUL FLOWER FIELDS'. 

CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is appreciated!

tw - This poem contains descriptions of blood/gore and vomit. The poem was made to represent the emotions of being in an abusive relationship and is my first ever poetry piece.

Walking through a large meadow,

My fingers collect pollen as they brush against the flowers.

My long black hair flows in the wind as

my green eyes shine in the bright sun.

The loose-fitting, flowy dress'

long, puffed sleeves irritate my skin.

But at least I look presentable, right?

I pat my dress, fix my hair, and smile

I look up to admire the beautiful sky and clouds.

There is one raindrop on my right cheek.

Another on my hand.

There's a flash of lightning in the sky before it begins pouring.

It isn't good rain.

This rain is the unpleasant, painful kind that people dislike.

I'm in a large swimming pool.

I am the only one there.

My one piece sticks to my skin as I climb out of the pool.

Water drips down my back as I walk; I step on a leaf and fall back into the pool.

I try to swim up but cannot find the strength.

I open my mouth and taste nothing but salt;

I open my eyes, and my vision is red and blurry.

This isn't a pool.

I lay in a pile of bones.

They press against my back like the pressure of relationships as I gather the strength to get up.

I stand up slowly.

The bones scrape against each other and make me wince.

I try to continue walking but instead trip on a single bone.

I am rolling down a large hill.

Rocks are slicing my flesh open, smearing

blood all over my clothes and skin.

I feel stinging everywhere and can taste only blood.

I feel puke in the back of my throat,

but I'll only roll in it as I continue going downhill.

I can't even wince as my skin shreds into smaller and smaller pieces, ripping off as it catches onto the sharp rocks.

I slam into a tree, knocking the wind out of me.

An unknown force pulls me up,

I feel a woosh by the speed.

I am spun in circles before they let go; I try regaining my balance.

Stumbling, I knock over a single chair.

I can feel every vein pulsing as the blood rushes through.

My world is swirling around me.

My instinct is to sit down.

It feels like I am sitting on needles;

when I see the thick, red substance, I think I am.

Sitting in a large classroom, I notice there are a lot of kids.

The teacher writes a question on the board that I know, so I announce it, but all the other students overpower my weak voice.

The kids turn to face me and begin laughing, pointing their gross fingers at me.

I lower my head and let tears fall onto the desk, collecting in the cracks of other students' carvings on the wooden surface.

I am standing on a bridge.

There is water under it, the polluted river dark green and dull.

Dark gray clouds cover the blue sky and bright sun.

I feel nothing; emptiness fills me as the bridge collapses.

I throw up the green and yellow substance into the toilet again.

I am nauseous. Sweat clumps on my forehead as I stand up and wobble.

I venture through the long hospital halls.

The lights shut off as I am tied to a stretcher and pushed down the never-ending hallways, the white walls covered in splatters of red.

I shut my eyes and await contact with a wall.

I slam into a brick wall.

It feels like sandpaper, rubbing my sensitive skin raw.

I notice there's a rope hanging from the sky.

I grasp onto it and am jerked up, my shoes no longer resting on the cracked pavement.

Walking on eggshells, I tiptoe down the path.

The shells are dyed a dark red as they slice my flesh open.

I open the wooden door and see a meadow.

I feel at peace when I lay in the grass and stare at the blue sky.

I don't feel at peace when the thunderstorm chains me to the ground.

I feel the heavy rain hit my skin; It feels like a bag of rocks is poured on my motionless body.

I don't struggle anymore. I just let it happen.

If I can't escape this, why resist?