night shirt soaked in sweats of grief
a puddle of tears smouldering in the arch of my back
I wrench and turn with the should haves, what ifs and next times
Building an iron cage of rationality
to train the tempest
for tomorrow’s time of love
But ever recalcitrant it sweeps aside
that cold steel and black metal
of my cognitive creations
Stumbling, tumbling into reality
To bend space and time with
Flash floods of feeling
My body is dragged under the water
My face smashing on the river bed
Sharp rock corners tearing red my cheek
Silt and gravel puncturing my lips
Grinding the back of my teeth
I strike out at the water
Flailing fists
Which way to go?
No light penetrates the surface
Save for the black light of that cold steel cage
I climb back inside, stymied and stifled
Because death by suffocation is slower than drowning
And I don’t wanna die,
just yet.
– 2 July 2008 (#3) –
fi3-gendut said
wow… poem of despondent
sorrowful and feels like meaningless person lives on this planet?
which is swallowed by earth is better?
it’s cool.
it comes of emphaty for human being
but it’s resentful huh?
right?
so, how are you doing oliver?
still feeling in the same of that poem?
Croaky said
hi fitri,
i didn’t write it with resentment in mind, just grief. and now i don’t feel like that anymore. like most things, it passed too