Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
every night since Rosencrantz died, I've had dreams about dead goldfish, their silver and gold scales gleaming sickly red roses of blood blooming from beneath them dead and bulging eyes staring at me. every day I come home to find Guildenstern still swimming is a gift but the goldfish are still dead in my dreams. They are always there and I never know why. Their bodies are piling up.
0
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC
Goldfish
every night since Rosencrantz died, I've had dreams about dead goldfish, their silver and gold scales gleaming sickly red roses of blood blooming from beneath them dead and bulging eyes staring at me. every day I come home to find Guildenstern still swimming is a gift but the goldfish are still dead in my dreams. They are always there and I never know why. Their bodies are piling up.
this is literally one of my least favorite things ive ever written pls stop
ellie-stelter
Written by
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem