Away go I avoiding death since birth
a poem
I’m—
A sibilant drift whistling through cracked windows; I walk through memories’ walls west of pain. [Away go I] Return to the dirt road tho’ I’m a cloud sliced on its belly dripping over
And over the hearth—The Fall.
No cane helps, can’t ever stand straight on flat ground
Yet on the mud I’m able. To be
Slayed by my own kin. It’s in my nature. Nature, it’s in mine the way it’s violent. Underskin it broods and I don’t let the bruise go quiet—it blooms like violets. Under, still, the careful watch that’s full with lack of care.
I’m a—the way I—
Deny and deny and deny but I know (don’t ask)
Don’t show. Don’t tell.
I’m the wave and shore I crash on and the jutting rock the splash bursts. A lost drop when back in the great sea. I’m a ghost the way I disappear before my own eyes—No expectations for a performing specter in a spectacle of added commas—Terrified of The Full Stop.
well that went by quick, here:
check it out, let me know what you think. share with your enemies or friends, that works too.
thanks for looking out
"West of pain" is such a beautiful way of describing death. That's how I interpret it. If life is like the sun, it gets more painful and bloody the more west it goes until it finally disappears beneath the waves. Perhaps that's the reason behind the sea imagery at the end. This is the first poem I've read by you and I really enjoyed it.
I loved this one for its own merits, but it also made me jealous because it explores a lot of the emotion and conflict I tried to put in my invisible man piece in much more succinct way. You did more in this short piece than I did with almost 2000 words.