Missiles

 

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The words punch a hole through my heart

and once reeling I shoot missiles

from my upturned stomach

still churning my buttered ideals

 

At the bottom of this brittle barrel

lies my carcass of weakness

I can’t bear to see, don’t want to feel

but knowing I have no choice

 

I look inside and taste my nausea

with just one sip of self I sicken

my disease growing stronger

like the cancer I’ve become

 

And I want to punch back

but futility has me on the ropes

 

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52 responses to “Missiles

  1. You’ve found the beauty in your brokenness, Vanessa. Even a broken heart doesn’t warrant a waste of good paper. ๐Ÿ™‚ So many things that love forgot to tell us. ~ Love you, Bobbie

    • Wonderful Bobbie, you are too kind to me. I feel awful that I am only managing an occasional visit with you lately, but please know that I still very much value the opportunities when I manage to find time to come and read you. Lots of love to you, be sure I will always stop by when I can xx

  2. Vanessa, I don’t know the nature of your illness, but whatever it is, you certainly got me with the depths of its effect on you. The “Carcass of weakness” was especially powerful, and the idea of consuming your own illness, truly haunting. Peace, honey. Amy

    • Hi Amy. Well firstly let me ease your concerns and clarify that I am fortunately in good health, however the feelings that went into this were in fact as strong as a kind of sickness so you were accurate to pick up on that. It was more like my intense physical reaction coupled with the sense of that tiny part of myself that makes me sick to my stomach (a big dose of self loathing)…the emotions that sparked this were from my gut and surprised me with their intensity so I’m glad it came across. Thank you so much for your kind comment and for feeling something in response to my words.

  3. can def feel the despair verging on anger throughout. ‘just one sip of self I sicken’ is a great line…so often getting past ourselves is the greatest challenge

  4. Ah such a well of despair and broken ness Vanessa – makes me wat to lift, nourish and soothe – your words conveyed and evoked so much – Lib

  5. This is such an intense write. And it strikes that when we really look at and own the parts of ourselves that are uglier, the sense that I walk away with is the intensity that you describe so well here

  6. Ooohhhh now then!!! This has some bite! Without saying too much, I think I know where this has come from- and I think it’s healthy to get it out. Some great great lines in this ‘churning buttery ideals’- I REALLY like that…..I think all I can say is …(and you’ll take the piss by saying I’m all fluffy- hey I DEFINE fluffy)- but this is perfectly human. I LOVE the way you express it- right up my street- but just dont beat yourself up….k? You cabinet headed individual? Sorry- I can’t help myself ๐Ÿ™‚

  7. Gutsy girl ~ you went for it! For me, you told it like it is … sometimes.
    When ‘on the ropes’ we indulge … and then get fed up with it and fight ie ‘punch back’

  8. some really nice alliteration sprinkled through out this….fantastical imagery…and wicked flow….with just one sip of self I sicken

    my disease growing stronger

    like the cancer Iโ€™ve become…is my fav part…and this was felt…

    • Yes it was, thanks Brian, this one came gushing out like emotional vomit (if you’ll pardon the very unladylike expression!) and was felt at the time for sure… Over it now though, onward and upward! ๐Ÿ™‚

  9. We can sometimes be our own worst enemy. Glad you are not physically ill and that you were at least able to create something wonderful from such a negative beginning. Powerful and great imagery.

  10. hauntingly beautiful.

    I can feel the longing and the despair here…”and I want to punch back / but futility has me on the ropes”

  11. The short and unadorned but complex phrases and images here(‘buttered ideals’ ‘carcass of weakness’) are tremendously descriptive and hit harder for not being too ornate–this seems like a write that just poured out intact and complete, relatively unedited–and the spewing image is strong. Can’t say I haven’t been there–hope it doesn’t last long, because it’s truly a hard place to be.

  12. Oh, Vanessa…I know these feelings so very well. (And have just recently acquired much needed medication for the resulting bleeding in my gut!) The image is striking as well. I’ve never actually referred to myself as a carcass of weakness…but only cause I’ve never thought of it! Fantastic!

  13. i adore the choice of vocabulary (‘carcass of weakness’ especially), the way your poem progresses..very, very intense for perception. thank you for sharing this, Vanessa~

  14. “And I want to punch back
    but futility has me on the ropes”
    Is it anger or cancer that is eating the insides–or one masquerading as the other? Punching is futile, as in it will not change things, but O it is much better to express this that to hold it in. Thus, this be a healing poem!

  15. such a strong piece. Emotionally powerful, yet focused in the perfect manner. The ending is really moving. Thanks

  16. Vanessa, a powerful piece on how self loathing can damage us. Strong write and the last two lines tie it up nicely. Thanks for visiting me and commenting. It is nice to meet you.

    Pamela

  17. Unrequited rage and bitter despair. And that pic, while lovely, makes a potent contrast to the context of the words. (Even the beautiful suffer)

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