The unspoken words
grew in my veins till
they intoxicated my mind

A deadly psyche planted inside
a breathing corpse
that’s perpetually dying

I found something
I can not unsee it
I can not unhear it
Although I never really could see it could never really hear it
I thought it up once
I could not tell you if I wanted to—
It will not go away—

I see it behind every scene
Its presence mocks me
Makes absence of the wonders of the world
How could something be beautiful juxtaposed with such obscene, grotesque clarity?

I can hear it always between every word spoken
It frames them as they roll off the tongue
Encases the vibrations as they make their way through the empty space and into my skull
Forcing connections between defunct neurological pathways trying to understand something—
Anything—

It’s the place where my thoughts come from
The feeling that penetrates deep within me

It is not dark
It is not silent
It is not numb
It is not empty

It is inevitable

It reaches from behind me and pulls at my ribcage
It weighs on my shoulders and gnaws at the base of my skull

Some days, it is a rabbit
It whispers in my ear
You are big
Your bones are strong
Run
Make for green meadows
We are waiting for you there

Others it is a dragon
It whispers in my ear
You are small
Your flesh is weak
Run
Make for dark chasms
My fire will find you

Its breath burns my nostrils
Fills my lungs
Consumes my thought
I am rendered helpless by its sting

How could something be painful juxtaposed with something so calm

So blinding
So deafening

How could something be so dark
So silent
So numb
So empty

How could something be so

Permanent

Sometimes I feel like I am about to figure out the punchline.

Everyone stops and watches.
Waits to see if we can end the charade.

Here—
Let me try—

Infant dies in NICU, never gets to question the nature of its existence.

No—
Wait—

Three year old child chokes on toy labeled not for children under the age of four.

No—
Hold up—

Six year old drowns in pool; parents too ****** up to notice.

No, no—
****—

It doesn’t have that ring of humor to it, that can’t be it.

I can feel it though, the laughter on the tip of my tongue waiting to boil over.

Here—
Let me try again—

Nine year old finds his parent’s candy, suffocates on his own *****.

No, no, no —
I’m close, I can feel it—
How about—

12 year old child plays with power tools, electrocuted.

No, no, no—
No, no—

21 year old man drives drunk, crashes into cemetery.

No, no, no—
No, no—
No, no—

25 year old man gets ******* sick of trying to see what’s on the other side of the painting, takes a bath in his own blood.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no—

Wait—
Here—

ENTIRE GENERATION spends their whole lives trying to distract themselves from the fact of their mortality.

None Survive.

Aflutter
by Michael R. Burch

"This rainbow is the token of the covenant, which I have established between me and all flesh."—Yahweh

You are gentle now, and in your failing hour
how like the child you were, you seem again,
and smile as sadly as the girl
                                                    (age ten?)
who held the sparrow with the mangled wing
close to her heart.
                               It marveled at your power
but would not mend.
                                      And so the world renews
old vows it seemed to make: false promises
spring whispers, as if nothing perishes
that does not resurrect to wilder hues
like rainbows’ eerie pacts we apprehend
but cannot fail to keep.
                                         Now in your eyes
I see the end of life that only dies
and does not care for bright, translucent lies.
Are tears so precious? These few, let us spend
together, as before, then lay to rest
these sparrows’ hearts aflutter at each breast.

Published by The Lyric, Poetry Life & Times and The Eclectic Muse

NOTE: This is a poem about a couple committing suicide together. The “eerie pact” refers to a bible verse about the rainbow being a “covenant,” when the only covenant human beings can depend on is the original one that condemned us to suffer and die. That covenant is always kept perfectly. Keywords/Tags: Gentle, heart, flutter, aflutter, death, dying, suicide, euthanasia, pact, tears, hospice, hemlock, arsenic, rest in peace

being (you eat you buy you die)

eating seconds 1 2 3 4 5
swallowing minutes 57 58 59 60
gobbling hours 9 10 11 12
drinking days monday to friday
fighting months for all four seasons
killing years: five decades
retiring

being (you eat you buy you die)

Dear diary;
Today was
a good day to die.
But worry not,
ready or not,
I'm going to
live young
and die fast.

Dear diary;
Sometimes I wish
I could stop existing-
no, not to die,
but just to stop feeling-
just to stop being.

I met a cat.
A calico cat.
Sick and dying, barely breathing.
I wanted to help
but was held back.
"Let others take care of it"
That's what we all do right?
Why do we leave the job for someone else?
This world would have less Milk Froths
If we all pitched in to help.