Yeti101 Posted January 14, 2020 Share Posted January 14, 2020 An icy ghost hand around my heart curl’d a pit of gravity in my stomach that cold sadness I have no true name for My quantified desires lubricate the slick silicon nictating membrane of the eye that watches me and knows all (but understands naught of my inner life) When the whole world’s your grave someone’s always walking over it (chasing Pokémon) Will they sing the new day in for us now? Still, on a few days and even more nights I can feel the old blood humming in me Memories or fantasies? Matters not. Either way, it shines in me ‘til I’m blind: Bear-sarked skin-changer raging against death Predator of night. Sword of the morning! And I recall my actual youth when I took the Orca as my totem and the sea-wolf kept me safe from teeth and deep (Remember; the ghost-dance is rebellion) Against good sense, and even existence I rebel. And in rebelling, I see: I am my pain, my joy. I AM my fear I see the icy hand is mine! And I reach into my chest and tear out my traitorous weak and cowardly heart And I dash it on the ground, stamping hard Life goes on, for a while, until next time Life: a moment. An instant: infinite 6 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Insequent Posted January 16, 2020 Share Posted January 16, 2020 Deep and powerful stuff, Yeti. Really enjoyed this. Thank you for sharing. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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