Merel Vdb Poet Free verse

A Watercolor Painting In the Rain

Mom you can’t touch me anymore 

Because at the end of the day 
People are not poetry,
We cannot sing lies into coats anymore.
We cannot imagine wool out of cardboard 
crayon boxes. 
Mom,
Warmth is not warmth unless we let it be. 

But now you’ve dressed me,
In a veneer of fluttering news articles 
Depicting my loneliness,
I am still a child. 
Well I am supposed to be. 
I think. 

Mom 
People stopped being science experiments 
They stopped swallowing the songbirds 
that cracked open their rib cages. 
They stopped making jam in their eyelids. 
Mom. 
Everything is bruised 
Everything is bleeding 
Mom. 
No one can see through the stars.

I think 
I’m blind. 
I think it doesn’t matter how we cover our cheeks 
You can still see our tears through it. 
Mom. 
My face is a watercolor painting in the rain, 
popsicles left out in the sun ,
butter in a sauce pan 
Mom.
 
I think I’m trying to find a million ways to tell you 
That I’m melting 
I’m crushing myself into the folds of my tongue 

Mom 
You can’t see me. 
But I’m crying mom 
I’m melting

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Line Gauthier October 14, 2019 at 4:02 PM Wow - very gripping, Merel. Pulls the reader in exquisitely. Suberbly penned.

James Inman October 16, 2018 at 6:27 PM A powerful write and cry to be seen.

Virginia Waters June 14, 2018 at 8:42 PM wow that is amazing - and utterly been there too - love always. To see what each only wishes to see is biggest human failing. So many go unseen but we can see ourselves and dance our joy into matter.