Nadir
Summer's salty doom knocked
ruggedly as I lay on the
sheets of tormented
threats and turmoil.
Jerks at the slightest beep.
Gasps at a faint knock.
Soaked in muddy debts
of frauds. A muscle pull of shame,
death's soulful companion.
The world didn't stop cascading.
I did. My brain froze.
My veins couldn't remember my blood,
and I could feel its stiffness through my
cold skin. I stopped living.
It felt like he who created time set
me on a boundless, devastating fall.
I was a lagomorph of
enchanted snares.
A labyrinth of taloned twists.
The anatomy of lingered pain.
Where the back of my brain no
longer received prompts,
maybe because I had weaved
pain so much that its loins
found solace in my abdomen,
intertwined with
my soul's verisimilitude.
Nadia's fist and pals alike.
Appeared to grip me.
But I craved aloneness.
I couldn't tell which
hand was a viper.
Fluids of thunderous tangerine
mines jogged my customized gaze.
It was neither a feeling nor an emotion.
It was dreadful emptiness,
same with the physical state
of my hut. A presage of
betrayed thoughts entangled
through my darkness.
Decorated in beige clouds
of adversity, I sunk into a
spellbound loophole.
A rend of rageful vaquita
Invaded my closed Lacuna,
Filled with sharks of injuries
Ready to let loose.
I plunged into a cynosure of
drunken tenebrosity.
Like a mishap, unheeded.
You would think I was a
Leadless peregrine in escort
Of blinded dolphins.
I dug into the earth's inner core.
My eyes went blurry.
I could breathe the
juices of my burnt spirit.
I should have left.
The pit of cause.
But even the mirror couldn't
recognize itself through me,
so how could I?
How could I have found myself?
In a mind sea filled with shattered,
blurry memories and
murdered mundane desires.
I was despair and denial
in a basket of calls.
Muted mutation in caskets of answers. Bones birthed blood.
Fractions purged from my spine.
I was a nightmare,
the kind with lashes of
stale runes drawn like tattoos with fermented, ghastly inks.
I was the ocean—merciless.
A curse tied to a repetitive fate.
The water in me represented
the seasonal tears, and
unlike humans, mine never dried up.
A constant reminder of bloated anguish. Every day, I watched people
find pleasure in my pain
when they looked at me,
when they touched me.
Their laughter and tranquillity
threw me to the depths of myself.
My demise.
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