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Literature Text
It's a odd kind of feeling
and an odd kind of peeling
the day you kiss your former self
that decisive goodbye,
then quickly rip your lips
from the parting.
There is no time frame,
no milestone markers
at the logical divisions.
One day you simply wake up empty,
a slight rumble in your snakeskin stomach,
then nothing but the seeping quiet.
Your flaking blood surfs the sloping light shafts
searching for new ground.
It is the last day, you see.
The furrows may remain,
but the uncertain air
of yesteryear
departs.
and an odd kind of peeling
the day you kiss your former self
that decisive goodbye,
then quickly rip your lips
from the parting.
There is no time frame,
no milestone markers
at the logical divisions.
One day you simply wake up empty,
a slight rumble in your snakeskin stomach,
then nothing but the seeping quiet.
Your flaking blood surfs the sloping light shafts
searching for new ground.
It is the last day, you see.
The furrows may remain,
but the uncertain air
of yesteryear
departs.
People say I look different these days.
© 2012 - 2024 neonxaos
Comments23
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Overall Vision Originality Technique ImpactI think it is just me - because I was thinking about suicide when I read this work...
I'm not going to carry forward that idea, nor am I going to bring myself into becoming biased over such a proposition and let it influence me regarding my decision towards the end-result of this poem.
Its... scary; definitely not for younger children to be reading, or introspecting about; its far too vivid and picturesque to be taken lightly, that's for sure; The last stanza, in particular, leaves a very prominent yet subtle dent in the mind.
And that makes this poem good.