The Balloons

My skin has festive balloons
tagged all over – smiling, bobbing,
spright and flambouyant.

Underneath the layers of skin,
my blood lurks with dead cells,
spreading, drying up into stains
of hollowness forming a murky fog
of heart-shaped lies called love,
but I cling to its presence.

I shy away from its kisses,
but my heart yearns for rectification.

The sweet after-tastes remind me
of my milked tea and honeyed lemonade,
not of the gumdrop days of beginnings.

I pour cup after cup of silence into
the empty basin, where my butterflies were.

They have lost their coloured wings,
metamorphosed into pieces of stretchy,
inflatable balloons, tagging my skin now.

***
I wore my heart on my sleeve,
now I wear my smiles on my skin
and my truths behind my eyelids.

– April 27th, 2016
© Sana Rose 2016

7 thoughts on “The Balloons

  1. Nalini Srivastava

    I can’t comment in technical lingo but your verse works for me as an enticing balm that works by creating fiery sensation while relieving the pain <3

    Reply
    1. Sana Rose

      I am so glad to hear that, Nalini ma’m. I wish to relieve the pain, mine and the readers, as I pen a poem. 🙂 Thank you so much for your beautiful thoughts.

      Reply
    1. Sana Rose

      A single word comment from you intrigued me enough. It is a new word too. 🙂 I smiled when I checked its meaning. Humbled and honoured, Louis. Thank you so much!

      Reply

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