where the impossible seems three shorts steps to the left, and one giant leap into insanity…
“ARE YOU ALL NOT ENTERTAINED?” He cries, quickly their screams confirm the answer. He turns back to the now pale, motionless Frank and lets out a loud cantankerous laugh. “FORTUNE SHINES UPON THE BRAVE, AND SETS UPON THOSE THAT ARE TOO SCARED TO FACE THE DEMONS THAT PLAGUE OUR WORLD..."
Sinners see me wither, watch me fall into me, a loneliness unforgiving, my hand around the gun, I wish I could tell you a story, of how this day was always going to come, a life dragged in the ruins of a face I once wore, a tear, my dear, a tear, my dear, a …
The blood still runs, in the foothills of the wastelands we once called home, the war that plagued us, still holds on in vain, depleting what was a happy home, and turning it into a sea of red, we asked forgiveness, we pleaded to be free, a world you’ve left me, a world not for …
Poetic rhapsody littered with contempt, misconceptions, regrets, a paper boat destined to sink in a bathtub sea, we love, we lie, we sing and we sway, we cough this world away…
Purge my desires, masturbate them clean, I strip my clothes, I defile my flesh, I paint my face with the dying seed, I taste its saltiness, I let it dry and I peel it off, I define my flesh as I once more jerk off…
Simplistic words scrawled onto paper, meaning little, if the feelings are not flowing, a defining moment bathed in placenta, juices mocking the body that fails you, soft lips on a flat face, you sin, you subject yourself, whisper the wish, free the flesh, tomorrow, a dream, haunt yourself from within…
Paint the skies she said, bring the colours out from inside your head, give life to the emptiness before you, share your soul, show this bitter world what you made of, she said, she promised a world of gold, she said she could give me so many things, but I realised in the end, when …
Petulant child, slippery seed, thrust in the face, of a whore called life, sucked and drained, my life like my balls, forever empty of the life-giving juice, my god like empathetic crescendo no longer a song, for my barrenness now thrust, in the light of beyond…
Fear my spread, touch my might, a vicious fuck you to all mankind, I grow without care, I strike with precise articulation, a puzzle unfolding, a picture now clear, the wisdom of Solomon castrating my fears, I once had a window, now I have a wall, my home now my tomb, my life now….
“The stories tell of this moment. They tell of her death, and how the ending thus began. But they say nothing of you, or I, for we are not even footnotes in her death. So yes, I know shit abou….” He doesn’t get to finish as Charlie pulls the trigger...
writing, writers, & worlds (of my own making)
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To live in pretend fame or die in fiery flame. Espresso. Writing. Music. Photography. Ramblings.
K Is Silent k Is SiLeNt K iS siLENT kIsSiLeNt
If you like poetry, short stories, political rantings and/or articles then you have come to the right place.
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Write everyday for 365 days. Fact, fiction and everything in between.
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so much to say and such little time
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Writing in the shadows
By Kel Dayheart
