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Pillow Talk

Do you know what it smells like to die? It smells like me If only pillows talked-what stories they could tell My pillow witnessed many a thing- in this life that I call hell My pillow is a fluffy thing without it-I can hardly sleep I snuggle up-my sweet dreams near Mind of it's own it has- I fear My pillows such a harmless thing Moves of it's own accord- it seems And then-my pillow talks to me It holds me down- I'm struggling My hot wet breath fills up my nose It smells like me when I explode Fireworks go off in my eyes then fade to black as- eye sight dies With burning lungs- I pummel death legs kicking hard- cloth steals my breath And with it takes my worst and best So ends my Ballet dance with death Oh I know how it smells to die It smells like me- I say goodbye Then as my pillow gathers strength I hear it's laughing voice I think My movements stop-deaths not so bad Till pillow laughing-sounds like DAD LAST THOUGHT LAST THOUGHT LIFE UNFAIR DADS DONE RESTS IN EASY CHAIR

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Nayda Ivette Negron Flores

Date: 3/26/2016 7:55:00 PM

Deep and sad Shaunda

Shaunda Lindsay
Date: 3/26/2016 8:43:00 PM

Thank you hun...It is sad isn't it. I can truthfully say "what didn't kill me made me stronger".

Poet Destroyer A

Date: 3/25/2016 6:47:00 AM

This is a sad and devastating write, I'm talking about the dad laughing. While there is a struggle to survive. I feel like using profanity, at dads done deed....wtf ...fish it maddens ..me, anyways, this is really something. I hope you don't mind me bothering your poems this morning. Linda

Shaunda Lindsay
Date: 3/25/2016 7:04:00 AM

awww thank you.. It was devastating. My father was a drunk who found ingenuous ways to get around my fighting him. I think he was crazy. It happened to him as a child so I guess he figured he'd share the wealth. You can bother me anytime.

Elizabeth Alexander

Date: 3/18/2016 4:07:00 PM

awesome how you portrayed the BEAST.I am ashamed I just ran, you stayed and fought , your strength of character shows in your writing sis.no one should turn a "blind eye" to abuse; wherever it happens. we three had such unworthy parents .I tried to speak to my mum on the phone tonight ;she said I should do yoga,(knows I'm arthritic), so I called her a clown, she called me a cheeky little shit-so I hung up. don't know why I even tried. Elizabeth.xxx

Shaunda Lindsay
Date: 3/18/2016 5:11:00 PM

No way. If I didn't have 8 brothers and sisters getting the same as me, I'd have run. And I did. I never lived at home past the age of 14. I was in Juvi and then on my own. Your mum? Well she doesn't deserve you, I do know that.

Tom Quigley

Date: 3/17/2016 2:31:00 PM

Ouch. Gripping. Well written.

Shaunda Lindsay
Date: 3/17/2016 4:27:00 PM

Thank you for the kind words.

Kelli White

Date: 3/17/2016 9:51:00 AM

This is a remarkable poem Shaunda. God bless you.

Shaunda Lindsay
Date: 3/17/2016 10:20:00 AM

Thank you so much hun. Really appreciate it.