On The Wall Of My House

 On The Wall Of My House On The Wall Of My House

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Summary

Life.

Summary

Life.

Content

Submitted: January 09, 2016

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Content

Submitted: January 09, 2016

A A A

A A A


You are no stranger to
me.
I have you stuffed on a
wall of my house; in a cabinet
made of dark glass and human
flesh.
Recently you
escaped
and ended up in my
bed; you managed to
squeeze yourself between
me and the wall. I heard you through my
sleep:
your breath, like an insinuating black
smoke;
your voice (when you were dreaming)
a leaden sea.
I have travelled with
you on those
waters, and cannot forget your
greed.
You wanted everything;
you suck up
light
like a parasitic ghoul;
your dirty reeking cloak hangs from a
knot down your back.
Sometimes you reach into my
entrails, and then you are
merciless.
I see you in the mornings, wiping
the blood off your
lips; and in the evenings, too, when
black night has drained the
world of
colour.
It is then I see pale insects, with
gossamer wings and
the faces of
children. They flit around the
window-pane like
beggars, while
sad words, like Egypt’s plagues,
fill the air with melancholy
droning.
The mirror reflects me,
haggard; yet
I am moved,
like Alice, by this strange and haunting
otherworld;
but My glass conceals no
pathway. I see in our reflection your
eyelids, trap-doors into night, as your
fleshless
grin icicles my heart.
I am dead as a gutted
pike;
I dream of knives and
wombs.

Withered and crushed, in dark holes we lie,
until we weaken, and then we die.

­


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