Extended silence in a eggshell room makes you feel as though you yourself are being enveloped into its walls. As though you are washed away, and becoming a blank slate. I guess you could call this a reaction to depersonalization. Writen in 2019.
A room's whites cry loud Still sound fills it with endless echo No thought, no audible breath, no Perspective This view too is Outside perceivable depth Only a snowy canvas Full of emptiness to reveal The plan Grab a roller Pour the can, and Paint myself eggshell Now I am the blank slate Man
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.