"decrepitness" poems
Oh yes, you run.
On into the darkness,
enveloped in a cocoon
of your own making.
Drown in your deceit.
Drown in your decrepitness.
You silly man.
Layer upon layer you build,
mask after mask is replaced.
Blood seeps along the edges,
you carve too deep.
Dancing with your dagger,
you slipped up didn't you?
Like a jackal in disguise,
teetering on the edge of destruction,
for control was yours.
Isn't that what you said to me once?
Oh you silly man.
Cackle upon cackle,
lights up your epic fall.
Accompanied by an
oh so familiar feeling.
Dread at the recognition.
For you thought you abolished it long ago.
Along with your mother,
along with your brother,
you rid yourself of them,
just like you did this.
For vulnerability rears it's pathetic head,
and the stench alone
has you revolting.
Desperate you claw your escape route.
Power hungry mongrel you become.
Attila the ***
You say you have no pride?
You say you have no ego?
You say any conflict is not of your doing?
You silly man.
Run amuck with distortion,
impossible it is to recognize yourself.
So riddled with defamation
you have victimized yourself.
And worse,
you have betrayed your own soul.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
Giving a name to a space is easy.
Giving a reason for it is much more
complicated, but she had a talent.
You thought there would be more to it,
fiery words, shouting in smoke, maybe
even an explosion or two, but it didn't
happen that way. You thought there
would be a bang, but you got a whimper
instead. It's the feeling when you're about
to sneeze and don't, underwhelming-ness
overwhelming you. Do you feel that?
I will crawl out of my grave and come
looking for her. I did it every day in high
school anyway. She said she wanted to see
the inside of my tomb, but I didn't know
what it looked like until I closed the door
behind us. I'm sorry.
We wanted everything, the whole wide world,
with all its decrepitness, all its Jerusalems,
all its glittering scars. We really did. Maybe the
effort matters. Maybe desperation counts for
something in this world. I can feel it; she belongs
everywhere. A place isn't a place unless she's
touched it, as if her breath alone has changed the
very chemistry of the air.
I just wanted her next to me. Is that so terrible?
There are worse things to want. Honestly,
I want the worse things too, but I'm willing to
give them up for her.
Because I know her. I know her in ways words
can't touch. I know her in breath and blink
and almost, those words the words themselves
can't grasp, as if their own meanings are lost
to them. Because I know her.
She was solid and soft. She held my hands
inside hers until they were warm again, and
when I looked at her, the world slowed down.
I could think clearly again.
But the beach, always the beach, water colliding
with rock violently and the air crackling with
something unnameable. I drew circles in the sand
while she stared at the back of my head, rolling
pebbles around in her hand. After she left, I knew.
A blessing looks a lot like a curse when you're in the middle of it.
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 5:13 PM UTC