Bleeding Tears In My Skinbottle
So in the blinding light of times
A blushing sense of blinking occurs
Small, ridged glass shards
Engorge my view
And paint my soul scarlet,
always
Soaked in the scarlet ashes I grieved,
And to those ends,
the loss of my vision
and the future that was
Such miserable tears as I have
What am I to do with these?
They are my only legacy.
From torn-off flesh as victim as I was
Soaked through, perspiring pores
I crafted for my sake a skin bottle
that would house my only possessions.
That would Otherwise
be lost with time.
Flayed and gored
Being slaughtered in carnage
I pooled all my possessions through
this skin bottle of mine
With each of these afflictions of flesh
I made my deposit timeously.
How does it feel?
How should it have felt?
Each drop was the salvation
otherwise lost with nature,
aged through space
Long i cried, many days i kept dying
Dripping my possessions, so not to waste
These were my only legacy.
That atleast,
even the torment was real
I don't want to be an unknown
In the only world I have know
No trace i was ever present
Erased, as a beast of the field
Here one morning,to be
devoured by noon
So in my agony I'll keep dripping
these jewels into my skin bottle
There atleast my legacy lives on
And so i was here,
I was present.
Even if pain was my legacy
Isn't a name better that an unknown?
Or am I to die as the beasts of the fields
Known and remembered by none.
I must keep my legacy tight under my arms
a possession forged from my pains
Molded by myself for my own comfort
Even through the discomfort
As I plead, bleeding my tears.
Relieving them forward
into my skin bottle
My one true legacy,
proof I existed
Copyright © Sizwe Hlabisa | Year Posted 2017
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