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In Search of Me

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My hands grip the tender ridges of the steering wheel
Of a car that isn’t mine
I lay my head against the stale warmness of the seat
And inhale the car’s rigid, evergreen scent
That clings to my clothes and swims through my hair
I swerve too far at every turn
And hug the side farthest from you
The swirls of green, red, and yellow
Are monotonous, useless
Flames of light
The street mimics
The every jolt, halt, and bruise
That embodies me
I peer through my window
In utter desperation
Cupping my hands to obstruct
The sun’s vicious yellow entanglements,
I look right and left
At every street corner
In hopes of finding me
, but fear penetrates
the fixed path of my veins
“Where am I? Who am I?”



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Ranea said...
Mar. 2, 2012 at 6:36 am
wicked!!!! i loved how easy it was to connect with it. GREAT work, please keep writing
 
zadiekatie23 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Feb. 11, 2012 at 2:42 pm
This really explains all the confusions of life, and I really like the metaphor you used for it: it works really well. Thanks! :)
 
AngelsKiss This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Feb. 10, 2012 at 8:50 am
This poem is very interesting, I liked the wording and the flow and there was definately a story I could pick up, that the fact it wasn't your care but you were driving, llike someone was trying to make you like them but even if its their car, it's still your mind, your hands you just have to find it:) lovely 5/5
 
laurensoccer This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Feb. 10, 2012 at 5:42 pm
Thank you so much for commenting on my work!!!! I just read and commented on some of your poems. They were all amazing. Keep writing!!!
 
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