letter burning

Heather T

the door cracks shut and I am sealed

left to the vacuum of these dreams

no pillow for suffocating echoes

their ghosts rattle poison through the seams

 

would have been could have been should have been

 

where the glass lay shattered slowly bleeding

reels looped in cruel teeth gnashing nip my heels

 

"baby" it said

"when we make love" it said

 

violates my flesh and I am still-

 

I have singed it all a thousand times while sleeping

and stitched together ashes in my sin

to have the flames for pleasure licking hatred

just to feel and scorch it all again

 

you are smoke

 

green skies streaming smear the cinders

leak their rivers screaming as I curl

into paper only paper it's just paper

and you can't smell the charring as I burn

 

I am smoke

 

for all the blackness of my fingers

that only years long scars aren't blind to see

I sketch you whole again in charcoal poems

on the floating fragments left of me

 

we are smoke only smoke can you love me through the smoke

  • Author: Heather T (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 12th, 2017 16:26
  • Comment from author about the poem: Different speed today. Plucked from an angrier point in history :D
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 41
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Comments4

  • kevin browne

    you speak beautifully here Heather T. appears your a deep well also. fantastic writing skills and thanks for sharing.

    • Heather T

      Thank you very much for the kind review, Kevin.

    • FredPeyer

      Heather, compared to your writing, my poems look like kindergarden scribbles. Angry or not this is a beautiful poem. "and stitched together ashes in my sin" just floored me. As you said in your comment: oh Gosh, oh Gosh! Applies perfectly to your poem.

      • Heather T

        Oh scribbles my arse. Thank you my friend for the generous review. I love that you dig my line 😊

      • burning-embers

        Passion, anguish, pain and fear cry out from your writing. Beautifully written.

        • Heather T

          Thank you for taking the trip with me, BE.

        • Nicholas Browning

          This to me seems like an unpleasant memory. It's difficult sharing things like these, isn't it. It's lovely nonetheless.



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