She drags her eraser back and forth across the indelible lines of me,
an exercise in futility; I cannot be eradicated,
I linger, standing my ground in agony while her effort increases, senseless rage tearing holes in the page, murdering the story to silence a character.
What I’ve created will live on long after she is cold in her grave,
forgotten and lost forever.
My words remain.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a subversive weirdo nerd witch who loves rocks. Intrusive rhyme bothers me. Some of my fiction may have provoked divorce proceedings in another state.😈
My words are mine. Suggest ai use and get eviscerated.
MA English literature, CofC
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Comments (7)
Lovely work. Very deep. Great job.
You are definitely NOT to be erased. Beautiful words.
Powerful lass. You're here to stay whether she likes it or not. That last line is so simple yet packs such a right hook. Well done.
To me, the image became so much clearer and had peace.
The idea of trying to erase what was never meant to disappear.
Life as language is a beautiful metaphor: senseless rage tearing holes in the page, not me, is powerful! Wonderful, self-affirming poetry!
This gave such a powerful image.