You believe your eyes shine light
And that no one can be blind to you
You believe your head touches the stars
And millions are left behind you in the clouds
Where they ought to be
No one can touch your heights of aloofness.
You believe your words are the choicest
And rarest of jewels
Only you can have the last one
And it will always be the best and most precise.
You are ablaze with your self-belief
It sits in you like a fat toad
Or a yapping dog
It is undeniably persistent.
I look for my reflection in your eye
Finding none my soul shrinks
Away from your bright bluster
And moves towards a gentler and softer light.
Look into my eye and tell me
what you see in your blindness.
Speak your truth
Your words were like a singing
Stream in the cwm.
Bubbling ,swirling, ceaseless.
They tickled me. They were fresh.
Your words were like a
Sell-by date passed.
Stale, sour, wasteful.
They bored me. They annoyed.
Your words are a sickness
Ready to infect.
Foul. Obnoxious. Toxic.
They poison me. They make me speechless.
My words were like a freshly
Carefree. Colourful. Simple.
They empowered me. They danced with yours.
My words were like a cornered rat
Down a hole.
Aggressive. Uneasy. Ready to run.
They screamed. Then they hid.
My words are like gold dust
Cupped in the palm of my hand.
Precious. Pure. Honest.
I show you a fist.
Sarah Flint has been trying to put words into good order for a while. Originally writing about all things green and horticultural she now has had success in the world of poetry and flash fiction. She has been runner up in the Scottish Mountaineering Council poetry competition for 2 years running and is a regular contributor to The Pygmy Giant.