It’s like a secret language, my heart
the day that dawns with hunger
the night that beats dark drums until pale morning
in the evening I watch the room as poisonous thoughts fill it
I dive deep to swim under the thick corruption
she begins to die from what she says
I hate her for poisoning the dinner
the children are choking and the old friends
it excites her, she is proud
this murder is hers, she is
strong in her fear, strong in her secret evil
she smiles as if she was doing everybody a favor
she smiles as everybody gurgles
desperate for air, I try to surface miles away
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12 comments:
hi ...
thanks 4 stopping by...
come back anytime....
ur also have beautiful poetry...
Yes, did you know my second ex-wife?? Love the last line!! Did the same thing "surfaced miles away"!! The person I wrote my poem about doesn't appear to be angry, just hurt, very hurt.
Powerful imagery Russell!
Disturbing images. You've captured that obsessive derangement that is order and structure of the most damaging kind.
Thanks Kai! Glad you came for a visit.
Hi Pat! This one isn't angry either, she's wounded and trying to make herself feel better. Like most people in pain, she is also terminally self-absorbed. Its so sad to see such damage spread around.
Thank you so much Lometa!
Thanks Nick! That is precisely correct.
Very sad and intense! Powerful write!
Chilling and very, very deep, I love it lots
Thanks Natalia! Not all things which are true are good and not all things which are good are true, of course. I see so much pain and it is so profound that I find it necessary to write about it. Perhaps if they understod the source of their troubles, people would suffer less, what do you think?
Thanks Sue! Sadly, its another dark theme but one I have recently watched being played out. Thanks for the great comment.
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