Cliff

I’ve got a relatively short but poignant poem prepared for you today! Cliff takes the physical image of a cliff and twists it into a metaphor so that it stands for the self–in this case, my self. At only two stanzas long, it’s definitely not one of my more wordy pieces, but it was written at a fairly thoughtful time in my life and rereading it has conjured up those same emotions and thoughts I was experiencing then. It was interesting, at least, and I hope you find reading it just as interesting!

Cliff

Crumbling, yet present, that is
how I see you now, dear self,
with chalky white pebbles falling
from the earth, salt-stained,
bitter from living for too long
but not prepared to let go just yet.

Wind bites. Nights lay their shadows
on your chest and weep, finding a
ready ear in you. You’re scarred.
Broken. Fading away. Others find
comfort in the features you cling
to, knowing they’ll be gone. One day.