Liquored Flames

by Xanthe   Sep 27, 2012

I've lit it a thousand times
yet your candle still couldn't dance
to the melody of my requiem.
So I poured us another cup
of wine because I'm too tired
of hearing how similar glass breaks
with my heart. Hopefully, you
learn to sober up and see me again.
But until then, I'll take you off
the coffee table and never fill my
glass with wine for you've broken it
countless times for me to fix, and
I'm too tired of hearing blood
dripping from my fingertips.

Written for a club challenge.


So often do I find myself lost -
not knowing whether I am speaking
to you or perchance that glass
of liquor left to gather dust in your
eyes. The smoke from cigarette butts
spell your name in the distance and
I try to fill each lung, hoping to
remember you to-night.

And I finally find courage to come
back home. An evanescent trail of ash
leads me to an empty room. Stumbling
over ashtrays, it took some time for
me to remember how coffee used to
cling tightly upon the walls, but now, it
seems as though it has also given up and
I am left within a fading prison.

Cold blankets lay waste, concealing
molds, yet my sole could still feel them
growing with each faltering step; and
they were strewn upon the bed - draped
desperately for warmth (yellow has never
looked so pale, so pale).

I remember when empty (wine?) bottles
reflected nights without purpose.
Only the fire between your fingers lit
up the space, the distance, the silence
between us. The stained glass window
tried hard to convince me that the past
still swims in my veins. But this time, the
silent house screamed memories I've
never had. And I walk away; hopefully
for the last time. 09/27/12 -vent-


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Latest Comments

  • 5 years ago

    by Baby Rainbow

    Your first little poem is very powerful and comes across as such an indepth description of such a short moment in time, a very small memory but one that holds all of this meaning for you. It seems to be coming straight from your heart and has a lot of emotion behind it, sadness, desperation for change, loneliness. It is very well done.

    For your vent poem, it again held so much emotion from your heart. It is clear this person mean a lot to you, and perhaps is someone you want to hold onto but the drink is driving you away. Alcohol can change people and have a deep affect on relationships no matter what kind of relationship it is. These poems could be describing either. A couple, or friends, or a parent/child. Your ending of this poem had a great impact, it made me think you didn't want to have to walk away from this, but perhaps for your own health and safety you had to. WE sometimes have to take the chance and find out this is how it was meant to be and we go on to bigger and better things.

    I really enjoyed this and related to the topic of it. You expressed your emotion so powerfully it really hits the reader. Well done.

    I just wonder why you put these 2 poems together under the same title? The title fits them both, and it is a great title, I was just surprised to find 2 different poems.

  • 5 years ago

    by LittleMermaid

    i get speechless when i read your poem Xanthe!
    Just realized i've already voted for this poem.. ^_^
    Keep sharing more of ur amazing writings!

  • 5 years ago

    by LittleMermaid

    Excellent poem Xanthe..i had been missing your poem!!
    Keep sharing your precious poems!!

  • 5 years ago

    by Decayed

    Do you mind if I tell you that you & Mark make a great writing couple? Please do collabs together.

    It's like you are the female version of him, and he is the male version of you.

    Awesome, Xanthe.

  • 5 years ago

    by Max

    Ok I finally came to comment tho I dk what to say
    no word would give enough to this piece of art
    I am in love with your vents they always make me think of how you feel cause you always put it behind a metaphor.
    this poem for some reason makes me feel like you are talking about a house maybe you used to live in when you were a child and then left it to another place and now you are back to the old house to find it dead and not as you had known it before but you still remember a little about how it was like from your childhood memories which are always mixed with fiction that you can't get the truth from your mind's creation
    Edit:the house can be a metaphor for something else a person and place ( not necessarily a house )

    I think I might be off with my interpretation but I tried haha
    anyway I love this vent a lot and nominated =)