Timeless

On the night of the old year I told my
191 centimetres tall friend that
the world was full of pain and
he nodded unreservedly.

I whispered through the smoke:
“When the night is done, there will be
nothing new. There will be
dreams plucked like roses from

night gardens and when all
the firecrackers have met their fate,
when all the smiles have bent back
into frowns, we will be the

last good memory this dirty pavement has.
They will speak of us in grandiose
sonnets and legends and they will never know
how alone, how alone we were.“

He huffed at my words, downing the
red sparkling wine silently before
throwing the glass at kids playing catch below
our window and missing narrowly.

When I asked him if he was scared,
he slightly shivered and
when I asked him if he was ready,
his silence spoke instead and

I felt really small under the
raisin sky coloured with all the
wonderful sprinkles. I didn't want to
be here. I didn't want to be, but

when the clock turned into a half-line
and chimed a new year just in,
I slammed my eyes shut and
grasped on thin air, using all my

good imagination to force myself
into feeling warm flesh and fingers
longer than mine grasping back
reassuringly and when I opened my eyes again,

it was morning. There was no broken glass
below my window, no children playing catch,
no tears stuck in my throat.
On the stone slab there was a half-open

bottle of sparkling red wine and ashes
fluttering in mid-air and I knew
these ones would never again become
fire. Decidedly, I turned my back to

the new year I never really invited
into every pore of my body and
kicked away the balloons and banners.
Shutting the blinds right back down,

I stacked my young bones onto the bed
and rested my tired thoughts, but the
flesh where long, lanky fingers wrapped
themselves around burned ever so softly.

Author's Note

New Year's Eve is one of the most depressing and loneliest times of the year for me. Since I'm celebrating this one alone, this rather long poem is a gift to myself and everyone out there who feels alone right now, as well as for those who don't. It's meant as a tribute to one of my favourite people. Happy New Year, everyone.

Reviews

[AJ Kristiansen]

I like your style and your honesty in describing a time when yes, many people do feel lonely as the calendar clicks over... you communicate your sadness very well and many of the lines have a poetic edge that I find great in conveying the darkness and sense of futility you feel at this time of year... well done, keep penning :)

[Little Birdie]

I'm amidst a minor writer's block but, thank you with all my heart, I'll keep writing :)

[Meghan]

I really like some of the descriptions and lines here. Your thoughts are good, and you have a way with words. I feel like this may have worked better though if instead of breaking it up into lines and stanzas it was just written as prose. I feel like some of the meaning and impact of the piece gets lost within the line breaks and what not. Other then that it was actually beautiful :)

[Little Birdie]

Thank you so much :)