Happy world poetry day! I’m not much of poet, but I still enjoy writing down my prose. Destruction is easy, but creation is hard. And that’s what art is, so here’s my contribution for the day.
I tell the others that on this planet people don’t talk.
To understand each other, they eat souls.
They use their tongues to drag out whispers that hide in the throats.
I tell them that no one shies away, except to be humble.
In all honesty, they want to share themselves with anyone who will listen.
I promise that a crimson chariot will await you. It will come down and bring you back up.
Your bones will not be wasted on nothing.
Then you will rise in flaming glory, back to the kingdom of the skies.
That’s where I swear your ancestry is from, that of royal blood.
Please don’t tremble from my touch,
I may not return soon. Centuries may pass.
You will lie sleeping in the ground and forget me.
One day it will eventually happen.
Your eyes with such shining beauty, such intensity won’t shine when they see me again.
And then the skies will not take me back.
The seasons will still linger in your memory.
You will dream of the past, with windows open, curtains blowing, and warmth of the summer beds.
The nostalgia of a childhood, of growing older, or the reminiscence of the chaos at home
will always stay dear to your heart.
However, as all living things must,
once death carries you away from this land, you will be brought
on a hundred sheets of stardust
back to your family home.
I can already taste the sweetness inside of you.
As succulent as a ripe fruit,
like a dark red apple waiting to be picked.
I can feel the currents beneath your skin.
The cuts will only harm the flesh.
I will remember your laugh
at midnight when I am scared.
It eases the cold nights
where the sun disappears.
You will remain inside of my spirit forever.
I can feel the scarlet roses growing inside of you.
Beautiful like the sea; the tides keep going back and forth.
I remember how you would bathe, cleaning every inch.
You were washing the salty tang from all of your sweat and tears.
The sun kisses the ocean twice a day.
That’s more than I could ever ask of you.
Once we shared our souls daily.
Now, I ask for merely once more meal.
I can feel the bumps and outlines of your ribs.
My mouth traces the surface.
The separation will hurt.
It will just like an incision. The loss of a limb.
You will see the blood overflowing, and there will only be red.
Love, pain, death – the colour speaks louder.
Because I cannot bear to see you blue.
I can hear the lovely music.
The organ plays the tune
I hear you cry out to the ones above; I know I am calling too.
Binding us in such a way, I don’t think we will ever be apart.
We can remain together forever. I can see your heart beat.
The entrails will create a maze, a labyrinth of love,
where one end will be you and one end will be me.
The slender slices of life won’t be enough. I’m greedy for it all.
I cannot fathom to see us not be as one.
The world will pave its rivers. Kill its trees.
Kill all the lovers it will ever have, and eat its children.
Yet the single leaf that holds to winter covered tree
will keep the season alive until it falls.
It was a much kinder fate, to keep you as my spring.
So you would not see the harshness of autumn.
The desire to see your body under the moonlight,
To bring you to your knees in crying passion. My flesh hungers for yours.
To kiss those lips like I crave; I am in pain.
I salivate at thought of your scent,
dreaming about inhaling your essence.
Out there is vast. I am empty.
Somehow knowing you will be there makes the loneliness more bearable.
I can tolerate the insanity.
And it will wash over me as I drown in your rivers.
The dawn of the day comes.
I can finally look over to see where you once lay.
Beauty may fade like the summer heat, or die like the spring blossom.
The spirit remains eternal.
And all that would remain on Earth,
(Because I said you would return to the heavens above),
is this pulsating vivid mess,
inside these closed doors.
Red was your colour.
It seeped through you.
Every drop was ecstasy.
Every piece was too.