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Black: A Color Poem
Brittany Martin
Cigarette burns on crimson leather,
What you saw when in the room,
I entered. The midst of homicide-
it coincides with thoughts of suicide.
A dull pear knife in a dusty drawer,
the blur her shoes made when she twirled.
It's a corpse's clawing on a coffin's insides
It's the sky before the moon begins to rise.
It's the clacking of hot steel against the floor,
the moan of a mangy dog scratching at a door.
the sound of your parents fighting, and the roar
of thunder after the lightning.
Awakening to your own sobbing in the night,
branches cracking under a storm's powerful might.
Dialing the number of a friend that's not home,
and the crackling of leaves that won't leave you alone.
Robitussin on the tip of my tongue,
lint hung in my throat, going for my lungs.
It's blood oozing from a cut gum,
old Halloween candy that should have been shunned.
It's a dry tongue colliding with the roof of your mouth,
burnt food after your stomach's been in a drought.
lonely tears colliding with your lips,
an old flame's sour kiss.
It's a paper cut, between your thumb and finger,
the feeling of a crush that you don't want to linger.
Guilt over a wrong of the past,
Being on your death bed and wanting your next breath to be your
last.
Trying to calm your sister,
before you both look in the casket,
being ignored by your best friend
while she's multi-tasking.
a knock over the head in a dark alley way,
a cancelled parade
because of heavy rain.
It weighs heavy upon heart and soul,
crowds your head and takes a mental toll.
It's what makes you blind, and confused.
It's nothing and so much more, infused.
It carries away life, and leaves death,
only taking and taking till there's nothing left.
It becomes the beginning and then it's the end.
It's what's there when you try to pretend.
Literary Club Poetry Contest Winner
Brittany Martin
Cigarette burns on crimson leather,
What you saw when in the room,
I entered. The midst of homicide-
it coincides with thoughts of suicide.
A dull pear knife in a dusty drawer,
the blur her shoes made when she twirled.
It's a corpse's clawing on a coffin's insides
It's the sky before the moon begins to rise.
It's the clacking of hot steel against the floor,
the moan of a mangy dog scratching at a door.
the sound of your parents fighting, and the roar
of thunder after the lightning.
Awakening to your own sobbing in the night,
branches cracking under a storm's powerful might.
Dialing the number of a friend that's not home,
and the crackling of leaves that won't leave you alone.
Robitussin on the tip of my tongue,
lint hung in my throat, going for my lungs.
It's blood oozing from a cut gum,
old Halloween candy that should have been shunned.
It's a dry tongue colliding with the roof of your mouth,
burnt food after your stomach's been in a drought.
lonely tears colliding with your lips,
an old flame's sour kiss.
It's a paper cut, between your thumb and finger,
the feeling of a crush that you don't want to linger.
Guilt over a wrong of the past,
Being on your death bed and wanting your next breath to be your
last.
Trying to calm your sister,
before you both look in the casket,
being ignored by your best friend
while she's multi-tasking.
a knock over the head in a dark alley way,
a cancelled parade
because of heavy rain.
It weighs heavy upon heart and soul,
crowds your head and takes a mental toll.
It's what makes you blind, and confused.
It's nothing and so much more, infused.
It carries away life, and leaves death,
only taking and taking till there's nothing left.
It becomes the beginning and then it's the end.
It's what's there when you try to pretend.
Literary Club Poetry Contest Winner