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Jun 2018 · 325
Echoes Of A Life
Justin Shupe Jun 2018
There's an ominous melody playing in my head.
A kind of uncharted echo only heard in melancholy tunes.
Splitting and splattering against the walls of my soul.
Skin, skin is all we see,
not the depth of a vast ocean of emotions.
Every fiber and molecule taken forgranted.
Hearts are a dime a dozen in this ****** up world.
Bleeding hearts ooze broken fragments out of glistening veins.

Tearing up paper,
rewriting line after line until these words have been defined.
Defined to spell out emotions to a broken society outside of this vessel called a body.
Concrete cyinderblocks cemented to these feet,
casted out like a fishing line into the abyss of a never-ending sea.
Drowning metaphorically, gasping for air but no one cares.

Painted faces in a culture full of clowns.
Intentionally hiding pain but the paint is starting to crack.
Vicegrips continuously squeeze this life,
harder and harder as light fades.
A tear weeps across the moons face.
Icicles sparkle,
melting a desprate soul and the rain falls like shards of glass.

Searching for a trail to follow,
walking with many others down this road.
Yet walking empty and alone all in the same moment.
Nothing more than a shadow underneath feet.

Silence saturated with malingering grief,
torment residing deep within.
Memories clawing through nightmarish dreams,
barely describable.
Mired in debris from the past - ****** into quicksand.
Dreams filled with hope; dashed and dimmed like a flame from a candle.
A life extinguished,
a void created where a future ought to reside.

— The End —