Details |
Phaedra Hines Poem
Strings of inspiration swirl through my mind
They float and frolic endlessly
Until they spiral out of control
And eventually get intertwined
For I am a non-writing writer,
An untameable monster - forever trapped in cerebral stagnation.
Copyright © Phaedra Hines | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Phaedra Hines Poem
I ascend to the stage,
I make sure not to stumble or trip.
They cheer and they boast and they cackle.
They like this new persona.
A beautifully doctored facade.
Would they like the girl behind the curtains?
They like my makeup and the pigment of my lipstick
Would they like my natural face?
Their teeth blind me
As i juggle my sanity
Ensuring that the tears that drip
From those tortured balls later on
Do not waterboard the floor
Their laughs distract me
As i contort my scar ridden limbs
Into the position of their desires
Ensuring that i do not break my weak bones
Who am I when the show ends?
Who am I when I take off my makeup?
Who am I when I am not performing?
The ringmaster wears darkness as a disguise
He watches my every contortion,
Judging my every breath.
If i drop a ball, if i break a bone -
He will punish me.
He has seen me behind the curtains
He has seen my face.
He is meant to love me.
But - he knows what they want.
I descend the stage
I stumble and i trip and i fall on my face
They cheer and they boast and they cackle
Do those fools think it is another persona?
Or is this my repugnant bona fide image?
Copyright © Phaedra Hines | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Phaedra Hines Poem
scalpel!
gently saw at the sides of the face
let it fall apart at the seams
now, put it up against yours
does it fit? is it a perfect match?
it feels cold, unwelcoming
the eyebrows are far too thick
the nose is far too big
i hate it
it is not a perfect fit.
scalpel!
gently saw at the sides of the face
let it fall apart at the seams
now, put it up against yours
does it fit? is it a perfect match?
it burns with uncertainty
the eyebrows are far too thin
the nose is far too small
i hate it
it is not a perfect fit.
how dare you be indecisive!
you bare no features!
only the blank canvas of a boundless oblivion
we gave you a wick!
we gave you paint!
i hate them
they are not a perfect fit.
Copyright © Phaedra Hines | Year Posted 2025
|