![]() NOSTALGIAA Poem by Marri![]() work in progress, constructive criticism always welcome![]()
Crowd me,
Crowd me with the ghosts of
My ancestors,
Earth me down to ancient bones,
To asleep forevers,
short-lived and
wood-scented
and hushed.
Crowd me with ghosts.
I need rivers of old blood,
So I can come home.
Now, when I run back,
River them down to my gut.
I need all my single losses soaked.
If you hear of me, now, episodic and broken, you would surely know that I am elapsing, in miles and in memories,
I am frantic,
and faithless, and lost.
Which is the sign, agreed on before births, for you to harbor in me past,
migrate with me there, the backyard of grandparents, whose hands and nose and sorrows I overgrow
Now that I am bare and nameless root me to them
with the mercy of tracing back
us
And then, when you've finally found me and crowded my skull with my tribe,
take your gun,
faithfully,
smiling,
emracing me,
blooming with warmth.
Take it,
lovingly,
for the last time,
point it at me,
shoot.
Extingush tribal
fires,
haunt ghosts,
dance them out
Till the last one.
I've come home.
© 2013 MarriReviews
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2 Reviews Added on September 3, 2013 Last Updated on September 8, 2013 Author![]() MarriBremen, GermanyAbouthttp://www.marrri-nikolova.tumblr.com/ 'If I knew myself, I'd run away...' I pick a word, phrase, sentence, sometimes even a whole chunk of text from what I wrote yesterday, the day be.. more..Writing
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