Open Mic Night: The Thinking Thistle, by Pixie

Here at Sick but Pretty we were thinking about how we could incorporate some creative writing into our blog and by “we” I mean me and my dearest Pixie  on Friday night.
Anywho, after two vodka sodas it came to us like a vision of the perfect outfit you don’t own: a blog version of Open Mic Night!
Tuesday Tuseday nights will showcase poetry, creative writing, art? music? musical art? poetic artistry? Whatever we AND YOU feel like creating.
In fact of you feel like creating something send it to us for Open Mic Night! All you gotta do is email us at editor@sickbutpretty.blog. We want, nay need, your creativity!!
To kick things off…
May I introduce…
PIXIE and her poetry.

The Thinking Thistle

It seems as though it’s hard to find that sweet release.

For others that, the welcome mat, flows freely right before them.

That bitter thorn with poison tip pries dee in my abyss,

But thought its thick, I’m never sick, wearing a cloak to hide.

 

And all this…? Sugarbliss! To falsify my lifestyle.

And all this…? Sugarbliss! To falsify my lifestyle.

I’ll get on top. But where on top? This question eats my heart out.

Inside my hatch at doors I scratch, to break through into a world.

Into a territory that is my own remains hidden until……..?

 

To thoroughly thaw that frozen claw clenching the ticket to life’s trip

Where is my timeline to view at will and logically progress?

I curse my thoughts! So nonchalant! And shallow! Provide no assistance.

Am I ever thinking the way I should to swim out of my sunken ship?

To thoroughly thaw that frozen claw clenching the ticket to life’s trip.

 

Unhand my throat and give back my will! To fly to a far away nebula.

Where terra-cotta dreams, burst at the seams, of bags that are always with you.

Let me be untied, free to ride, and to know the final destination.

But I fear that the train, has left me again … forever to wait at the station.

But I fear that the train, has left me again … forever to wait at the station.

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