Doubt came for me today Dark as my mind on the nights I can’t escape my thoughts with Venom drops dangling fat from teeth bared Close to my face, close enough spittle collected On my cheeks as it spoke. “Do you really think you are worthy?” Its voice an unholy cross between a cat’s seductive purr And chittering of…
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The Fruit
Crush my heart to pulp between your fingers; I’ll smile through the blood in my teeth and ask you to do it again, harder this time. I’ve realized it doesn’t matter if I make love to the wrong person with my words. The words don’t care. They want to be written either way. Either way, I’ll bleed. We’re all…
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You’re No Samwise
I wanted you on this journey with me, But I had to accept things as they were, So I left you sitting on the bottom step, Watching me walk up; away into the clouds. – Sara Myriad, 2022
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The Alone
The greatest gift I gave myself Is the pleasure of my own company To find in that calming, accepting presence, The grace to exist completely. – Sara Myriad, 2022
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Stripes
The way I see it, there are two types of people The first appreciates the tiger for what it is Rejoices when the animal is alive and fierce in its element, Respects and adores without confining The second wants that striped pelt for themselves Hunts, takes, proudly displays, Not caring the essence of what the tiger was, is lost…
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Seabirds
Today, I am soft, weak; a shell less hermit crab, You’re a seagull, beak snatching, eyes pitch and cold. Tomorrow, I will be that seabird, air-lifted, arrogant, Tomorrow is years away, but my strength is loyal, Shrieking back like cicadas just when I’ve forgotten, So, today, I say nothing, ask nothing, Nothing, nothing, Today, I say nothing. – Sara…
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My Muse is a Bastard
I wish you wouldn’t insist on waking me Early every morning, fingers in my hair, Sweet words on your lips An inch from my ear. I rise from bed, drunk, Full, ripe, words ready to spill forth; Yet, as soon as pen touches paper, They lighten, transform to cotton candy. And melt away gently in the rain, Leave me…
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Slam Poem
I’ve tried to write Succinctly, brutally, Vitally, seductively, But apparently, “Poetry” simply means Writing Like This – Sara Myriad, 2020
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Farewell to Summer
When my grandpa died, soon after my grandma, I drove up north with my husband, Thinking about an ice cream shop Where children sat and ordered real sodas That melted sticky sickly-sweet with ice cream. Of antique shops with names like Carousel, Matched by charming interiors. Or the flea market Only open on weekends, But I had all the…
