Swallowed by the night sky
Enclose me with your barren voice
Stammered in the translucent dark
Her eyes on the silent river
Light as the curse of the night wind
Explore, under my mask,
Pale as the night
Her eyes as the soundless moon
Her eyes as a bright look at night
The moon with clouds against her
Until that night, I fell for you
When you became unseen
And the beauty was in all things
Swallowed inside the night sky
You bring me these dead flowers, and I ask, why? Why do you come to this place, knowing the danger? Why do the stray dogs of the forest night terrorize us and not let us sleep, with their howling at the moon like wolves every night, feeding on the corpses of rabbits?
And yet, you seem so naïve. Did you not know that this world is forsaken now? When they dropped the bomb long ago, they killed beauty. Whatever innocence we had left died that day, and ever since, we wallow in our filth and spend each minute like it’s our last.
Continue reading “Forsaken (microfiction)”
The angel of death sits by my bedside
I stare into the vacuum of her eyes
I know for sure I’m being exiled
And she’s waiting for my demise
She comes to visit once a month
Brings me a bouquet of dead flowers
She always looks so stunned
That I’m awake at such late hours
Ghosts in this house make no sound
They are only around to watch
Flashing images of my mind
And extract memories from times
I dwell in forsaken chambers
They belabor the process of death
Let’s get it over with, we say,
Let’s kill these emotions during
The bright light of the day –
Instead of waiting for fire-soaked
Nights under harvest moons
And pastures of bitter gloom
Dead poets hang
from shrunken trees:
ring-a-ring-a-roses,
a pocket full of posies,
singing dead songs,
lyrical flames ignite
numb corpses
Obsolete language from
skull faces, pensive troubadours:
satchels with free verse,
in a universe
devoid of logic
Look what you’ve done to me
Glittery blood under my eyes
You ignored my desperate pleas
You hastened my demise
Why have you done this to me?
I’m now dead to the world
You tossed me in black seas
I drift in the netherworld
Mist hangs in the air
Snowy ground
Dead souls speak to me
The ghost in our house
Tortured spirit roams here
In a long white dress
Yearning to be free and out
Of her purgatory life
Here’s a piece of horror/gothic flash fiction about insomnia, ghosts, and strangers that always reappear. It’s about 700 words and has an estimated reading time of about 3 minutes. Let me know what you think!
Continue reading “A Profoundly Sad Look (flash fiction)”
