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#fragmented
I, I’m a Ghost. The shadow of dread. A thorn in her side, awake at night. The Mare inside of dreams. A shift at the shoulder when she wakes up. Tormented winds, tear in the sail, bleed in the eye, stumble of words. Hear the lonely cries, calculate misplaced steps. The ticking clock, running through her blood. Whispers in corners of her mind. Fade through walls.
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Mar 21
Mar 21, 2026 at 8:03 PM UTC
Mare Within
Feeling like a short piece—most days I’m piecing myself back into myself. Healing small holes like a recent piercing— recently sent…waiting for the word; that feeling of being Delivered. I live between scenes— the entertainment of play I am a short piece, not broken— not unfinished, just an interlude.
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Feb 23
Feb 23, 2026 at 4:37 PM UTC
Interlude
I rise beneath the eye of Tartarus, where the air scent is coal and iron, and the river of lost thoughts spiral and twist like a python coiling around my spine. The specter speaks in Hades’ tongue: step into the black, the dark calls, let the Styx carry your trembling limbs, let the ferryman close his ledger. I feel the pull of Erebus, its fingers tangled in my rasp throat its shadow pressing like a mountain on my lungs. Yet still, I draw a faint and shallow breath. Still, the recoil of my lungs is revolt, still, tendons of my body cries: not yet. Cerberus gnashes at my feet violently, but I walk past three gnashing mouths of flame, knowing the teeth cannot reach the heart that has learned to beat through storms, and all the raging floods of time. Desire and dread mingle in my veins, scales of great Leviathan grinding in the swollen arteries, and the mind becomes a labyrinth where Minotaur waits, silent, patient, ready to gauge on the weight of being. The thought returns, an army of Phlegethon, promising oblivion like Persephone’s kiss, but I grip the world like Atlas’ globe, shaking under the enormous weight, refusing to crumble. Each heartbeat a sword, each breath a shield, and still the underworld whispers, still the gods gamble with my pulse, but I walk forward, clad in the fire of my own persistence, my cracking bones singing to the chorus of defiance. Let them send their shades, let them tempt with rivers of forgetfulness, let them summon Typhon in the chest, I will not yield. Even in the deepest dark, I am a temple burning, a monument to stubborn flesh, a body that remembers how to claw against the darkness and abyss. And when the night hurls its full arsenal storm, shadow, memory, despair I rise again, like Orpheus escaping the dead, like a titan shrugging the weight of the world, like a soul that will not surrender, because even in this hell, breath is rebellion.
0
Jan 29
Jan 29, 2026 at 1:58 PM UTC
The Titans Night
I rise beneath the eye of Tartarus, where the air scent is coal and iron, and the river of lost thoughts spiral and twist like a python coiling around my spine. The specter speaks in Hades’ tongue: step into the black, the dark calls, let the Styx carry your trembling limbs, let the ferryman close his ledger. I feel the pull of Erebus, its fingers tangled in my rasp throat its shadow pressing like a mountain on my lungs. Yet still, I draw a faint and shallow breath. Still, the recoil of my lungs is revolt, still, tendons of my body cries: not yet. Cerberus gnashes at my feet violently, but I walk past three gnashing mouths of flame, knowing the teeth cannot reach the heart that has learned to beat through storms, and all the raging floods of time. Desire and dread mingle in my veins, scales of great Leviathan grinding in the swollen arteries, and the mind becomes a labyrinth where Minotaur waits, silent, patient, ready to gauge on the weight of being. The thought returns, an army of Phlegethon, promising oblivion like Persephone’s kiss, but I grip the world like Atlas’ globe, shaking under the enormous weight, refusing to crumble. Each heartbeat a sword, each breath a shield, and still the underworld whispers, still the gods gamble with my pulse, but I walk forward, clad in the fire of my own persistence, my cracking bones singing to the chorus of defiance. Let them send their shades, let them tempt with rivers of forgetfulness, let them summon Typhon in the chest, I will not yield. Even in the deepest dark, I am a temple burning, a monument to stubborn flesh, a body that remembers how to claw against the darkness and abyss. And when the night hurls its full arsenal storm, shadow, memory, despair I rise again, like Orpheus escaping the dead, like a titan shrugging the weight of the world, like a soul that will not surrender, because even in this hell, breath is rebellion.
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54
happy, my birthday, I'm all alone and within I'm without pull and torn I'm gone I wish, I wish, I wish, and nowhere does where go to the deathend of time? I found the answer in the middle of the key and I haven't seen much then because it blinded me. somebody helped me saved me from myself the chorus of our kind the human heartbeat provider of life destroyer of death only absoluter. to be loved is all want. love doesn't want me. it would seem it had beaten me, this kind, I keep my distance. But really it's me beating myself, because love is my bat, my fist, my hand. I wish I was no one, I wish I was some one, **** why can't you undo me? Strike the piercing chord, Leave me like a lost note, don't strike in the bone make me more of a orchard **** **** **** me me me if you won't do me this one favor **** me **** me **** me. Somebody forgot me sometimes ago sometimes I don't care the rest I can't help it and it, I. I'm just struck by cosmic luck, every star crossed in every sky. impossibility makes room for me. for me, for me,                                                      love. splitme, sunkingly I sunk down the bottom of the drainy drain drain, beget, oh mother!! my mother my mind has become such, such dry mush. flee the orchestra!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DEATH is on the riseDONT YOU FEAR?oh, suppose I guess you don't what then well, funny that you ask. there will come a day when this world you knew so well ends, and a new one begins, a new one where you know nothing and nothing will help you. may as well be one where you have a hard shell and twitching legs. but this is not the world you know this is is the closest thingy to hell there is, where nobody speaks your language, not the language of your mind not the language of your heart, this is the world where the inferno will be made to look like a playground. this is the end of days of man and me and you and I. the end of everything. And. I'm su'reject, shank, Blake Blake blake how you would divinity me, I know how naught but the end doesn't care oh the end oh the handsomest end why does it leave me naught alone, in my dark little cabin of a hole, why does it naught, why, why???? I'll tell. spirit. because it loves you and you are in love with it. this is the way things roll. across the universe!! isn't it beautiful?? well I think so, thus it is, because beauty, is it not merely the object of the mind's affection? that's one of my favorites. forging a new pathway. perhaps smelting the sky may not be the brightest of ideas but is it not still the greatest? I don't need this. that crime. flung form out window, distraught and demented, it's my grandpa!! why does it make me mad? could be that the sun doesn't bend for the heartbroken, nay, nay, that not be it. I bet, oh yes, my whole dime, that it is buck for your bang when it comes to love and leave. but from is leading me nowhere, and now has stranded me between rock. buried by the future the dead future that future carved from animal bones and dinosaur minerals and dead potential and dead fulfillment. flum. deny and deny, deny till your teeth harden to stop them. but that's not the case, there's dreaminess in the clouds, always a somethingness isn't somethingness? I suppose always asking solves the question, doesn't't. blah. bake me a cake, with your name on it and shove it in my face. happy birthday.
0
Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 9:28 PM UTC
Toceka
happy, my birthday, I'm all alone and within I'm without pull and torn I'm gone I wish, I wish, I wish, and nowhere does where go to the deathend of time? I found the answer in the middle of the key and I haven't seen much then because it blinded me. somebody helped me saved me from myself the chorus of our kind the human heartbeat provider of life destroyer of death only absoluter. to be loved is all want. love doesn't want me. it would seem it had beaten me, this kind, I keep my distance. But really it's me beating myself, because love is my bat, my fist, my hand. I wish I was no one, I wish I was some one, **** why can't you undo me? Strike the piercing chord, Leave me like a lost note, don't strike in the bone make me more of a orchard **** **** **** me me me if you won't do me this one favor **** me **** me **** me. Somebody forgot me sometimes ago sometimes I don't care the rest I can't help it and it, I. I'm just struck by cosmic luck, every star crossed in every sky. impossibility makes room for me. for me, for me,                                                      love. splitme, sunkingly I sunk down the bottom of the drainy drain drain, beget, oh mother!! my mother my mind has become such, such dry mush. flee the orchestra!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DEATH is on the riseDONT YOU FEAR?oh, suppose I guess you don't what then well, funny that you ask. there will come a day when this world you knew so well ends, and a new one begins, a new one where you know nothing and nothing will help you. may as well be one where you have a hard shell and twitching legs. but this is not the world you know this is is the closest thingy to hell there is, where nobody speaks your language, not the language of your mind not the language of your heart, this is the world where the inferno will be made to look like a playground. this is the end of days of man and me and you and I. the end of everything. And. I'm su'reject, shank, Blake Blake blake how you would divinity me, I know how naught but the end doesn't care oh the end oh the handsomest end why does it leave me naught alone, in my dark little cabin of a hole, why does it naught, why, why???? I'll tell. spirit. because it loves you and you are in love with it. this is the way things roll. across the universe!! isn't it beautiful?? well I think so, thus it is, because beauty, is it not merely the object of the mind's affection? that's one of my favorites. forging a new pathway. perhaps smelting the sky may not be the brightest of ideas but is it not still the greatest? I don't need this. that crime. flung form out window, distraught and demented, it's my grandpa!! why does it make me mad? could be that the sun doesn't bend for the heartbroken, nay, nay, that not be it. I bet, oh yes, my whole dime, that it is buck for your bang when it comes to love and leave. but from is leading me nowhere, and now has stranded me between rock. buried by the future the dead future that future carved from animal bones and dinosaur minerals and dead potential and dead fulfillment. flum. deny and deny, deny till your teeth harden to stop them. but that's not the case, there's dreaminess in the clouds, always a somethingness isn't somethingness? I suppose always asking solves the question, doesn't't. blah. bake me a cake, with your name on it and shove it in my face. happy birthday.
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134
He saw him a long way off, And threw down all constructs; contempt, “The other” out there that we scorn, the fragmented kin, Instead, open arms ~ he showed us how ~ to welcomed him, The foreigner within —
0
Nov 3, 2025
Nov 3, 2025 at 3:52 PM UTC
the foreigner
If matador is both macho and adorer, mask and mother, Where are we in this chapter? If peace is both picador and saviour... Stepping stone and tablet... Why can’t we capture?... I know we were meant to meet us These fragmented foals, sweet strangers... So why can’t we seal us? When we know the things that make us open, closed and patient – omni-dimensional... You’re calm yet persistent, I’m a bloom that has its own blood And we’ve learnt to take it here, on the edge of premise... Chasing and charging us... Until one day we’ll free us. Like hail weather – pressure conscious.
0
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 6:52 PM UTC
Hail Weather
i came across this post today— it asked me if i wondered what would be the best place to leave my heart— even if it's bits and pieces, like shells in the sand. made a list for my own peace, but here to share it, if you seek to leave a piece of your own: the sea, people claim, carries the tranquil and provides the cool; the empty temples and churches, where your heart prays and reluctantly admits; graveyards at night, protected by those who left their own behind. libraries and dusty old bookstores, in between the pages and caskets of the used shores. sun-dappled shades of yellow, green, and orange— once settled, the purples and pinks of the similar hues. gardens of thorns and flowers, the sleeves of your last lover; knots of the willow trees, in winter blues and heated blooms, risky texts during the night, with strangers i met online, in midst of late monsoon showers, not to miss out the midnight hours. a few bits i leave in the misty mornings of the early summer, the drenched evenings of the spring shimmer. the company of my closest companions— in the fur of a cat, the nip of a bunny, the smile of a pup, sometimes in a sunset, in the lush green of the forests, often in the foil of the autumn trees. mostly on my bed, in my tear-filled, forsaken pillow, and against the one i sleep so dearly. plushies and teddies, keepsakes of childhood memories. with all those i've met so far, and cookie crumbles at the footstep of my life— for those who are welcome and those who are not. i have left, and leave, a lot more pieces. i wonder if my heart is a cake-a-piece.
0
Jul 2, 2025
Jul 2, 2025 at 10:02 AM UTC
a list & a sugary battle
i came across this post today— it asked me if i wondered what would be the best place to leave my heart— even if it's bits and pieces, like shells in the sand. made a list for my own peace, but here to share it, if you seek to leave a piece of your own: the sea, people claim, carries the tranquil and provides the cool; the empty temples and churches, where your heart prays and reluctantly admits; graveyards at night, protected by those who left their own behind. libraries and dusty old bookstores, in between the pages and caskets of the used shores. sun-dappled shades of yellow, green, and orange— once settled, the purples and pinks of the similar hues. gardens of thorns and flowers, the sleeves of your last lover; knots of the willow trees, in winter blues and heated blooms, risky texts during the night, with strangers i met online, in midst of late monsoon showers, not to miss out the midnight hours. a few bits i leave in the misty mornings of the early summer, the drenched evenings of the spring shimmer. the company of my closest companions— in the fur of a cat, the nip of a bunny, the smile of a pup, sometimes in a sunset, in the lush green of the forests, often in the foil of the autumn trees. mostly on my bed, in my tear-filled, forsaken pillow, and against the one i sleep so dearly. plushies and teddies, keepsakes of childhood memories. with all those i've met so far, and cookie crumbles at the footstep of my life— for those who are welcome and those who are not. i have left, and leave, a lot more pieces. i wonder if my heart is a cake-a-piece.
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46
All i see Uncovering in front of me Tearing at the seam Colors colliding All around Feel the sound Frequency released Turn around Its you, Staring into The mirror reflecting Hi, hello. Finally facing she. klarity the ones that sees beneath shadows, coming to rise Inner child, always resides within the frame, & she hides,she silently cries she hates the way she thinks I feel her pain, i want to comfort her Must keep her safe. Yet, her patience grows thin I can't keep playing pretend. can only run from myself For so long Until there's no more distractions to save me from my own self. Sure, Try to put the reflection on the shelf. Did the old you fade away? Or are you just lying to yourself Rejecting & silencing the parts of you that still need help. --- Keep running Keep wishing Keep waiting The clock Still ticking Keep dancing Until your sweet ever afters you must see your shadows, And not run astray Time to integrate. A healthy array Instead of judging Seek to understand How about i apply it to The one who's typing this The one who feels the emptiness And the bliss Shes a paradox wrapped in skin She loves yet she hates & she's trapped in her brain. causes her to act in ways. That she will probably rregret Tomorrows yetserday..
0
Jun 20, 2025
Jun 20, 2025 at 10:35 PM UTC
Time to integrate
#*Limbless In a vacuum Swims my mind Little flower That blooms Anonymous Leaf abound green Leafless chills In autumn Awake the owl Night sleeps It preys Truth is layered The Sun defies Lies Broken The words Knew a chain*#
0
May 14, 2025
May 14, 2025 at 5:29 AM UTC
Fragmented...
When it comes to the world, I'm a preterm baby— I know nothing of tales, adventures, treachery, or wisdom. I watch with hooded, glazed eyes that only understand fragments— splinters of ideas. So when I got a glimpse, it wasn’t something a cradle-bound soul could ever decipher. It's the justification of just— It’s never just a papercut. And it wouldn’t be. It’s never I’m fine. And it wouldn’t be. My baby self is allowed to throw a fit. I think every other version should too. But I’m only a preterm. What do I know?
0
May 4, 2025
May 4, 2025 at 4:46 AM UTC
Preterm witness
I was torn apart as a child. My fragmented pieces grew like weeds, unwatered, unwanted. I was unwanted as a teenager. My identity is what made my mother cry, revolted, restless. I am restless as an adult. My anger is what keeps me up at night, terrified, torn apart.
0
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 7:45 PM UTC
49/6 "Torn Apart"
my body is made of pretty crushed stars tiny tin cans and older toy cars my brain is fragmented filled with sorrow and woe my hair is woven with silk and with gold my nails are like tokens prizes to be sold my body an object a toy to be won my life is a mess and im having fun
0
Mar 4, 2025
Mar 4, 2025 at 11:38 PM UTC
Body Mind Soul and Life
some of the best recollections i curated is that of chaos. i know you hate it, so i will make you remember. how you lolled your tongue at the sight of garlic in your porridge when we’ve got nothing else to eat on a rainy day. bowls of getting by squeezed out of tired pores, crated palms with puddles of a won day, same palms like coveted napkins on the lap of the rich wiping the long breath of hopelessness from your cheeks. reed-thin body, bones as if wafers, yet we sprung forward. not a care as we watched the jowly cheeks of wanting puff up. how hand-me-down yesterdays were worn—a tradition tied around a last name like All Souls’ Day candles. they peer from behind the stars, thoughts of them sparkle, they are reminded of fights, they are reminded why they left in the first place, just in case boredom pays them a visit. i’ve come to know, the most practical way to get a golden ticket to the land of happiness is to have it handy in my heart. but you locked it up in a gilded cage and you chased a star not knowing it’s a sunset and it just kept dipping into peaks jutting out of nowhere, you had worn out your heels and you were left with nothing but midnight instead of holding on to your blanket and watch a new day spill out of the sky. you were insane that way. remember the shame how magic belts turned us red and purple and upright, and how we were the grinch who stole baby Jesus away from his nativity set and got caught and were taught grownups pick on kids who didn’t know better? remember how mathematics predetermined our future as undisputed champs of failure courtesy of our clairvoyant aunts? it mattered little— inconsequential, so to speak. we heaved our arms, hoisted our dreams onto our scrawny frames. our bulging chests were enough for us to beat, like bongos, we fanned the flames until they voices throughout the milky way. our mother in her innocence believed we were capable of many a great things between the better parts of her mood swings. we were mirrors more than we were humans portioned in parts bitter and beauty, we rummaged through every chance hoping we could unearth change, but we never did until it was too late. yet, i always had your hand in mine. we dropped out of the line and strayed away from paths stamped with footprints of approval and wandered on roads no one can see but our hearts knew. remember the day you let go so you could hold bottles thinking they were looking glasses, thinking they fermented clarity aged in oak barrels, and day after day you took a drop until you had an ocean dissolving you? remember how i found real estate in the promises of a girl, how i grew a house there, but then, time mistook her for dorothy and blew her away like a tumble **** into the arms of another boy? how i bawled out and how you had a ball at my expense, laughing at my silence at open mic night? remember when we heard a drop of a needle the size of the moon hurtling down the earth when father sat up on his bed for the last time with his eyes open as if he saw an unseen door somewhere. somehow, we heard him skittering away while he left us a fertilizer for everyone to cry about? remember how we forgot. we dreamt under the same roof before our feet carried us away. into the mist went we, threads began to fray, we forgot. i will make you remember, before all that i am unravels.
0
Dec 2, 2024
Dec 2, 2024 at 6:48 PM UTC
You Will Remember
some of the best recollections i curated is that of chaos. i know you hate it, so i will make you remember. how you lolled your tongue at the sight of garlic in your porridge when we’ve got nothing else to eat on a rainy day. bowls of getting by squeezed out of tired pores, crated palms with puddles of a won day, same palms like coveted napkins on the lap of the rich wiping the long breath of hopelessness from your cheeks. reed-thin body, bones as if wafers, yet we sprung forward. not a care as we watched the jowly cheeks of wanting puff up. how hand-me-down yesterdays were worn—a tradition tied around a last name like All Souls’ Day candles. they peer from behind the stars, thoughts of them sparkle, they are reminded of fights, they are reminded why they left in the first place, just in case boredom pays them a visit. i’ve come to know, the most practical way to get a golden ticket to the land of happiness is to have it handy in my heart. but you locked it up in a gilded cage and you chased a star not knowing it’s a sunset and it just kept dipping into peaks jutting out of nowhere, you had worn out your heels and you were left with nothing but midnight instead of holding on to your blanket and watch a new day spill out of the sky. you were insane that way. remember the shame how magic belts turned us red and purple and upright, and how we were the grinch who stole baby Jesus away from his nativity set and got caught and were taught grownups pick on kids who didn’t know better? remember how mathematics predetermined our future as undisputed champs of failure courtesy of our clairvoyant aunts? it mattered little— inconsequential, so to speak. we heaved our arms, hoisted our dreams onto our scrawny frames. our bulging chests were enough for us to beat, like bongos, we fanned the flames until they voices throughout the milky way. our mother in her innocence believed we were capable of many a great things between the better parts of her mood swings. we were mirrors more than we were humans portioned in parts bitter and beauty, we rummaged through every chance hoping we could unearth change, but we never did until it was too late. yet, i always had your hand in mine. we dropped out of the line and strayed away from paths stamped with footprints of approval and wandered on roads no one can see but our hearts knew. remember the day you let go so you could hold bottles thinking they were looking glasses, thinking they fermented clarity aged in oak barrels, and day after day you took a drop until you had an ocean dissolving you? remember how i found real estate in the promises of a girl, how i grew a house there, but then, time mistook her for dorothy and blew her away like a tumble **** into the arms of another boy? how i bawled out and how you had a ball at my expense, laughing at my silence at open mic night? remember when we heard a drop of a needle the size of the moon hurtling down the earth when father sat up on his bed for the last time with his eyes open as if he saw an unseen door somewhere. somehow, we heard him skittering away while he left us a fertilizer for everyone to cry about? remember how we forgot. we dreamt under the same roof before our feet carried us away. into the mist went we, threads began to fray, we forgot. i will make you remember, before all that i am unravels.
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46
my soul is left swirling in the black waters of ailment i am hearing bottomless pages of music i am the circle with no understanding my internal guts and thoughts are all delusional i have no inner life nothing achieved several dreams in a fog to reduce the fever of my futility there is contradiction and paradox i will say things and mean nothing in my own minds argument the virus of being will create awareness of how pointless it all is i am trapped inside a trunk fragmented left outside of time i am sad delight at long last failing to comprehend the right way to live
0
Jan 23, 2023
Jan 23, 2023 at 12:35 PM UTC
Guts & Thoughts
I am the experiment. This is my place. This is my role. The drug paints hallucinations of meanings around each single of these empty words, that are naked on a notepad but belong onto a colorful clustersheet, pityfully fallacy! Can we, the two of us, find the meaning of rhymes in here together? We can engine the searches, only if we want to; and talking about principles: Well, most of it, it's ego **** and I dare to write and spit on anything forbidding me my will I'm freely willingly willed to write a *title now, within the flow, than out of it at given times, when it rims and rhymes and Romes and rums. ********* let me write when I want to, not if you could to, how dare you, I'm sensible and easy to brittle, don't pressure me with principles, you son of a dissociative spine itch! - We were derailing. And still are. Rhymes so easy, reasons so far. Words I delete will never teach me memoriance. Two tasks, can't comprehend this nonsense, I slide on the blade of sentences that split my own illusive walls of honour I enhanced - throughout the conversation with each myotherselves, perhaps in advance, far before you knew, this that's choppy-chopped chown-chauwn-to-grid-cheese-strings ¿point of view?, while I faithe for making sense with my course of understandnessless mess of a what's a what-a hard digest.
0
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 8:22 AM UTC
Ipsiety*
1. … from now on, a reshuffling of diction, word-acrobatics, perspectives gleaming with thought: somebody built an orange tree against the other things around it, to devour boiled eggs in the porcelain hand of a plate, the convulsions of the world can only go a short length, it’s a matter of … … regression, like tumbling downstream over the backs of boulders … 2. … near the end of his journey the man’s voice, as dull as ashes, a cracked seed ready to burst, declining through the dark, a short distance to a wintry end: traveling alone to the bottom, sound of his dusty age drawing in the earth lying at the edge of bones: today, the light, tomorrow the ledge: think lightning fast … … his affliction is not pain but death: cold at his feet, like frail children ... 3. … even in the icy spring of March, your eyes were the stars melting lingering snow: we lay buried in the warm blood of naked bodies, like refugees in a new land, and the wind that did not reach us, and the ice that could not find us: outside, the silent streets could hear thunder beneath our blanket … … ask me where she is, the one who ignored my heart, who was gone by summer ... ====================================== from my unpublished manuscript: Fragmented ©dah / dahlusion 2019 all rights reserved first published in Record Magazine
0
Jan 11, 2020
Jan 11, 2020 at 3:04 PM UTC
fragmented no. 8
1. the architecture of waves, pelicans in adagio but a tempo slower, the silver-colored fish, streaks of light, like conversations out of reach, counting waves, the soft and hard ones … the sun-reflected surface makes me sleepy as if a hypnotist at work: my thoughts resisting this sleep that feels like the final dust of existence … starfish ******* the life out of clams, the weight of the ocean … 2. the frail branches of an old tree, an old woman an old dog, a city that’s outbuilding itself, straight up from Hell, straight into the atmosphere, across the sky, across the universe … at sunset, the challenge the sun has to stay alive, as if a magician at work: darkness falls, like the dead flame of life, several seconds pass, then several more, I collect the darkness … time flies, like a harbinger of bad news, like an awkward simile that needs explaining … 3. of all of my loves, of those who were actually lovers, either married or single, you were the one who drew me in, against our will, both hearts fell, bodies withered and ****** … at sunrise everything reshaped, our bodies felt alien to each other: nothing has changed but the distance between us, always these forbidden remains … how our voices grew hoarse, outside it was raining, everything had rusted … ========================================= from my unpublished manuscript: Fragmented ©dah / dahlusion 2019 all rights reserved first published in Fishbowl Poetry, Germany
0
Jan 11, 2020
Jan 11, 2020 at 2:59 PM UTC
fragmented, no. 2
In solitary spaces I find parts noise hid screaming simulacrum in broken cobwebs a life pending in crevices sensing chill broken concepts mantles for ruptured elements their soft core exposed casualties of bloodied past salvaged fragments society's furnace discarded singing synths waiting
0
Dec 26, 2019
Dec 26, 2019 at 4:57 AM UTC
a life pending
…. …. And it was real. (Why?) ….I was missing. I hear I was missing. (You left the world you knew for me.) Was it that easy? ….can't be real. The way we grew…. I hear I was missing. ….I was missing. (I needed your affection and your love.) What did I do? (Why did you leave?) I wasn't ready for…. I shouldn't have promised… (….I would have said yes.) ….asked for your hand. You were a casualty... (I need true emotion.) Of my insecurity. (….many ups and downs. Why did you come here….?) I was missing. I hear I went missing. (You went back to the world you knew.) Now I can't sleep…. (Yes, it was real.) And I never knew… (You went missing. ...you were missing.) I hate emotions. Please….don't close it. (….out of my driveway. So many nights I cried…) I hear I was missing. I'm here, I'm not missing. (He gives me affection and his love.) ….but this is real. (It was….but no more….) (He said we'll be married. ….we'll get married.) I need you….I'm sorry...I left. (Why….scared?) I wasn't real And I never knew it. …. …. …. (Now I can sleep.) …. ….
0
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 11:32 PM UTC
Fragmented
Do the blinds cover your weakness Does it conceal Your suffering Your misery Your pain, the bleeding It hurts so much The faint light Of glowing canvas Leave an empty Trail On her face Empty eyes like crevasses A hollow mess I scream. Nothing I cry. Nothing I wail Sob But silence remains Standing petrified before death Brandishing their scythe Into a neverending slumber
0
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 7:04 PM UTC
The Illusionist