Saturday, 11 July 2009

  • A Longish Poem, Inspired by LiquidityOfSelf.

    Thanks to the above named Xangan for challenging me to write something more than four or six simple lines. I hope this is long enough for you. If not, I'll try again tomorrow.

    http://myhomeiswriting.xanga.com/532537076/item/ 

    ~~~The Image of Purposefully Taken Death, Take Three~~~

    Wrap this ribbon 'round my throat,
    Tie it tight so I've no voice with which to gloat;
    Standing 'pon my pedastal, above them all,
    Their staring eyes anticipating the coming fall-
    Open my arms to their unwelcoming eyes,
    Whispering "I'm sorry" to deflect their cries;
    Inching towards the edge, toes hanging over,
    Holding onto hope, my four leaf clover-
    The knot tightens and I gasp for breath,
    Inhaling sharply- on my tongue I taste death;
    Exhale slowly, air whistling from my lungs,
    Inch a little further and know from hope I hung-
    Each breath tastes bitter, each second feels forever;
    Balancing on the edge of this stool like a lever,
    Just a slight tip forward and I'm not breathing-
    I bite my tongue like a baby teething;
    Blood dribbles down my chin and drops like tears,
    But my eyes are dry even as they bulge in fear-
    My weight shifts forward, pulling the ribbon taut,
    I struggle for balance but the battle's fought
    As my feet leave their pedastal, dangling 'bove ground-
    The air is gone but there's a pounding sound
    Ringing inside my ears; my heart's still beating,
    Even as it's death I'm finally greeting;
    Hands flutter to the ribbon 'round my throat,
    Eyes roll back to whites and my feet float-
    Thrashing only pulls the binds tighter,
    Who knew I'd be a fighter?
    Nails digging into the flesh of my neck,
    Reaching for release under the rope; I'm a wreck
    Dangling from the ceiling like a puppet on a string-
    And the tears in my eyes have begun to sting;
    Running down to my painted blue lips,
    My tongue takes sips of the fear beneath my fingertips
    Scratching for purchase, digging for salvation-
    My lungs explode as I embrace damnation.

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