literature

The Puddle Girl

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BEK1995's avatar
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Literature Text

Is the Puddle Girl happy?
(Her eyes are always downcast,
Never glancing towards the bright blue sky behind her.)

Does she love soggy autumn nights as much as I do
And despise wormy spring mornings?

Are we twins
or simply reflections?
Is she my unflawed self?

Where does she go
And what’s it like There?

Peacefully drowning;
Breathing in liquid glass.

Does she mind disappearing
For days or months
At a time
When the weather is bone dry or frozen solid?

I think she does;
She is easily disturbed.

One might call her volatile,
As she is always being smoothly interrupted
By jagged
Ripples
That create a blanket of static
That breaks her face.

Her heart?

Is she evil? Trapped?
Is the crystal cage for my protection                  (If

                                                                    I were to scream she would scream
                                                                    a piercing silence back to me.
   
                                                                    What if I blinked

                                                                    Or closed my eyes
                                                                    And cried our name?

                                                                    Would she climb out to me?)

Or for hers?

Who is she
Besides a ghost I cannot touch?

Silent

Silent

Always silent

Always present?

No where
Nowhere
Now here

NO

No (w) her (e)

That imperceptible barrier is one you’ve created for yourself
she is trapped in the pavement let her go!

SHE IS NOT REAL!

                                  What if I was not real?


                                                                                         What if I am not real?









                                                                                                      (Please don’t
                                                                                                  let us be the
                                                                                                           same.)
I've been working on this poem for about a week, and think I am finally mostly satisfied with it (and I wish I could get the spacing formatted correctly here, but I can't. UGH).

I don't know why I have suddenly become obsessed with the Puddle Girl. Don't let Moffat find the thing. 

Comment appreciated! 

UPDATE (3/23/16): This poem has been accepted to my school's yearly literary magazine!!! YAY!!!
Comments3
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AllannaLovesLaw's avatar
I love the amount of emotions you put into this poem and how at first it seems like a little question then at the end you're hoping you're not the trapped girl. Well that's what i got from it anyway. Good Job :D