Poems and Prose

Control

White knuckles
Of fists held tight
Desperate to hold on
Grasping for minute strands
Of anything.
Slipping through fingers
Like handfuls of grainy sand
A grab for more meets resistance
As if through water
Against fast current and high tides.
Normality moves and adjusts
Through hurricane sound
Distorting thoughts
Crescent moons now imprinted on palms
In the fight to maintain control.
Calm, outside in
As lines of dream and reality blurs
Fire dwindles as energy fades
Desperate for air
To reignite.
White knuckles
Of fists held tight
Desperate to hold on
To regain, control.

 

mumturnedmom

4 thoughts on “Control

  1. This is a really intense read, perfectly capturing the feelings of losing control. Brilliant. I love the repetition from the beginning at the end, really effective. Thank you so much for sharing with #ThePrompt x

  2. This poem conveys determination with bells on. Reminds me of that analogy of being like a swan – gliding beautifully on the surface, but what you can’t see beneath the surface is their legs going like the clappers to keep going. Beautiful xxx

  3. This is an amazing piece Becky which conjures up such great visualisation of determination. So well written. Thank you so much for linking to Prose for Thought and commenting from #ThePrompt too xx

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