Soul's Cry
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For Edward Ebeh's Pick a Title vol 42 poetry contest
Fictional poem.
I'm suffocating,
do not resuscitate me.
Reality has become an adversary,
silently sinister, slowly suckling my energy.
If the morning light doesn't steal my soul,
my final breaths will write a story in the fog,
revealing secrets I can't speak of.
Spilling the ink to fill in the blanks,
suppressed emotions are a reminder,
about how I don't belong here,
nor an island surrounded by toxic fences,
fabricated by fiendish fraudulent friends.
I'm colder than this home,
abandoned by the abandoned
in an acidic aquarium,
where sharks prey upon sea urchins.
My heart is a foreigner without a dwelling,
arteries too lethargic to spread love.
Too disgusted to breathe,
the mirror reflects as my nemesis.
My welcome is overstayed,
black faces, darker than darkness,
giggle, hiding in the background,
their sharp teeth dripping in crimson drops,
as I try to cover freshly ruptured wounds.
But I'm content, so I keep bleeding,
hoping to become a forgotten entity.
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2024
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