Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member


M/Milky Way, Auckland    if anyone can have it, I don’t want it
19/F    IG: Loneblues


Gopika Krishna Oct 2018
A loner that kills pain,
physical pain and for some
a drug for joy, for calmness.
Magical, as a single strike eliminates all the pain.

The loner once struck me into a deep sleep,
where I was floating, like a dream
calmness or a silent blissfulness
I don’t know what this loner made me feel
I just know that it was beautiful.
Silence, silence all over
and then a sudden interruption,
my friend’s panic stricken voice
calling me, waking me up.
Looking up I found her scared eyes,
scared, as in whether I was dead.

A fear outspread that day,
people who loved me feared the loner,
there was solidarity in their fear,
fear of losing me.
The loner was banished, once and for all.

Days passed, years passed,
pain was calmed using wrapped pills.
It never gave the calmness,
the blissfulness like the loner.
He is gone for so long now.

Today, as my body starts to quiver with pain,
I heard his voice,
a soothing voice, asking me
asking me to open the cellar
“Take me and I’ll put you out of your misery”

As I opened, I saw the loner
beautiful in blue.
I took him and all of a sudden
I found contentment in this strike after so long.
Calmness flooded in me once again,
I found happiness in this silent blissfulness.
Silence, silence all over.
But this time my sleep didn’t get interrupted,
for this time it was now and forever.

Dolo, the loner,
now I’m yours….forever.
The sky’s nose is pressed to the window of a loner’s heart
Knowing something dances in the bottom
And it stands in front of him

Nothing in life shows what a loner really feels
More than that fountain of ink
Whispering from her pen

Still the sky wonders if there is anything really there
Or if a loner’s heart is merely full
Of emptiness dancing bare

You can see the sky’s ear pressed ever so closely  
Against the window of a loner’s heart
Listening to the pulsing beat

Knowing something wondrous dances in the bottom
It is timeless yet, still he wonders
If it only dances in the ink
Copyright @2011- Neva Flores Smith