Existential Bullshit Poetic Clichés
This marbled world is not for me.
It's too cold, it echoes new voices
From old memories that clank
Like skeletons in my skin.
Lives lived and ended, redemption and sins.
I possess the memories of bones
And the persons I had been.
I know not who I am now,
Signals bouncing off glass pillars
Deafening me, my screams tickle
My tongue draped in black velvet,
But nothing comes out.
The silent stump of my heart
Bangs against its meaty cage.
I thought it was love but I think I'm just insane,
But maybe the two are one in the same?
The halls are barren no portraits at all,
No one even walks in them - me,
I can barely crawl.
Under my eyelids scratched
And scrawled faces of people I once was,
People I once knew.
Twin rivers meet and spill over
My bed of wet roots
I dig my fingers in the soil and touch myself
Damp earth seeps into my flesh
Seeds sprout from my nipples.
Though nothing grows within
Stagnant green, I am an open hole.
Plant in me breath of your soul.
I bury myself in you, Goddess Earth,
Let me find life under your mossy skirt
Let me rise through your layers, pollinate me.
Let me merge with you, and your sister, the sea.
Drown me, bury me, let me rise to the skies.
Make me feel something,
Let me be something,
Beyond this life -
- cigarettesfromfrance & moonlyar
Collaboration piece based on one line riffing. This is my quick edit version. Painting: The Wailing Sisters by Majna Ruzic part of a series titled Soil As Witness
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