A note with tear stains on it, heart-rending, in my mind. Most probably, just cheesy. I locked it in a case, thinking I hid it well. It made perfect sense at the time: my move, the note, its hiding place. … I never saw the note again, I roughly remember what it said. I saw deaths after that, but no one saw mine. When I look back, it made perfect sense. At the time. I still wonder where the note is.
*** Like an ocean spilling itself all over my fragile frame not remembering, nor bothering to do so.
Just pouring out all over the past, the essence and the flicker that will go out in dimness, when desire is dead, instead of going out in roaring flame of falsified fancy stumbling in the asphalt road.
Like an ocean – smooth and mellow, blinding me with its salt water, bellowing at my deafness, catching my eagerness to take a rest and tormenting it as fake or irrelevant.
Like an ocean – bury me in your abyss, deep, away from people’s eyes and memories; Deafen their yells of gossiping sympathy, of curiosity ill-fitted.
I want to sleep and let go. The water glides along my cold silky fingers Let go of me, my cool ocean.
November Poem-A-Day Challenge, Day 08 – Inanimate Object Poem
*** Cuddle your cute teddy-bear Never mind he’ll suck on your blood Cuddling him, you feel not how life flows away from you and dreams come through – they infiltrate, soak in you, keeping you breathing, but not really alive.
Cuddle your cute nightmare to see your blood float out of your soul Bodies matter not, yet we cling madly to them. All the death in the world cannot take you, if your time has not chimed.
“it is friday, the thirteenth. who can ignore it. i heard a man of power speak rubbish and felt ashamed. i cried for the girl who had died in so much suffering and pain, who had met her end in miserable solitude in the cold company of wickedness. i hardly did believe it.”