Kryptonite

Kryptonite

A Poem by C.R.Turner

You are my Kryptonite

a remote weight on my heart

that steals my strength,

and draws my breath

from afar.


A magnetic vice

too strong for me.

Makes me dizzy,

fuzzy, sick.

Can't. Think. Clear.



                                             Need to keep a safe distance.


Years after our parting

I was fine, happy, strong again,

filled with life and love anew -

until I saw him again -


talking of you,

smiling about you,

texting with you,

laughing with you,

the way we used to.


That old weight began to tug again

my resolve, my courage, dissolve again,

into my sinking, swirling, watery hell...


...until finally I mustered the strength

to wrest myself away from him.


He, my great friend, my perfect equal,

now deathly poison for me

with the chain he so proudly wears

oblivious.


My lead Kryptonite crush.

© 2015 C.R.Turner


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Featured Review

A crush is like getting hit with boiling acid. Not only is the thermal damage agonizing, but the acid side of it ain't so pleasant either. It eats away at one's soul both with a heightened sensation of the unhealing wound of loneliness as well as tormenting us with the looming execution of our sense of self-worth. Contemplating life without that special person just seems too awful, and the mind scrambles for what it can't find. Even the poorest among us can afford our own torture chambers.

The eyes sure do delight in rattling the chains of that poor wretch in the cage.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

I like how you say that kryptonite is kind of like women, you really soften you
This is a great poem, It really is
Great work!

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

A crush is like getting hit with boiling acid. Not only is the thermal damage agonizing, but the acid side of it ain't so pleasant either. It eats away at one's soul both with a heightened sensation of the unhealing wound of loneliness as well as tormenting us with the looming execution of our sense of self-worth. Contemplating life without that special person just seems too awful, and the mind scrambles for what it can't find. Even the poorest among us can afford our own torture chambers.

The eyes sure do delight in rattling the chains of that poor wretch in the cage.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Hi CR - I wondered where you were going with the title the same as the 3 doors down track but its enitrely suited on reflection - nothing else would do.
As I say - I wondered where you were going but the killer - the last two stanzas - was as good as any twist I've read - didnt see that coming - so yeah, really got to me this one.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

C.R.Turner

9 Years Ago

Thanks Anto! I think you just made President of the Fan Club! LOL :)
Really appreciate the rea.. read more
ANTO

9 Years Ago

Mines suck CR ask anybody - yeah I'll take that post as Pres. lol
good luck mate.

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297 Views
3 Reviews
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Added on January 5, 2015
Last Updated on January 5, 2015

Author

C.R.Turner
C.R.Turner

Ireland



About
I'm a professional €150k a year poet. I can go from nought to tingly in two stanzas or less! Yeah right!! Sorry to disappoint but I'm just a regular guy processing his dirty linen in public, v.. more..

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