Death's Narration

This poem is based on a dream I had after spending a lot of time in isolation. I felt lonely and forgotten. Edgy.

Growing hills of your steady silence.

Dwindling signs of your fading smile.

Sirens don’t discourage howl,

They only deafen it for a while.

And everyone will go on spinning. 

After speaking of your name at last. 

A thinning edge of the blade is slipping,

The hands are shaking. Your heart begins to race. 

It’s painless,

All but pleasant.

Crimson makes its way between white tiles.

What a mess you’ve caused!

Soothing is the gloss, but you detest it.

Again, you gulp and protest it. 

The colors trade the senses,

It’s first warm, then cold.

Then grey!

Then black…

Glowing heels of your fleeing voice

Glimmer away.

Author's Note

harsh feedback is encouraged.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

A stark and somber recounting of a suicide attempt. The spare phrasing heightens the horrifying imagery. Chilling. I hope it is fictional.