Amidst a raucous background, I blend myself
with the noise
as a chameleon does.
I crawl through pulsing colors on painted walls,
cloning rhythm
with technical ease.

The next time, though, I am quiet, and colorless
Locked in place
sweat forms on my frantic lip as
I am smeared against the vibrant
talking ceiling,
stark-naked, the only thing I have to offer is my own
crystal silence,
reflective in the light.

(This is supposed to be aligned in the middle. This is not its true form.)

[October 23rd,2004]

by Zoe Nyght

Comments (1)

it seems poemhunter is constantly wreaking havoc on your poems...i understand, fictionpress did the same to mine. but about the poem: I liked the voice, you can feel her distress in the second line