for K.T who is an artistA Poem by Alicante lullabyRecently all i have written is elegies...K.T, i knew you were an artist the moment i saw that dark red ribbon sprawled on your arms and thighs and the warden rushing, rushing towards you and when they bandaged your wrists the red still showed with all its vitality like a traffic signal or a scarlet poppy iced in an ice white coffin or like those Japanese flags with Maroon spheres in their centres, talking of the Japanese, what a sensitive people they happen to be, they even kill themselves step by step in hara-kiris,they own their personal seppukus. i know you knew something of the Japanese, you knew how to kill yourself beautifully, bit by bit and i'm compelled to call you an artist even if my mother says i idealise strange things,i will call you an artist.
K.T darling,you had a bluebird in your heart like the one Bukowski had. (we shouldn't have read him) Something makes me think you had butterflies in there too and glowfishes, florescent,glowing glowfishes that ate our heads while we slept together on days when either of us had a breakup. It was like a gift paper ,your heart so it had to ripped apart. and you my dear were an artist, you knew how to die artistically. You had expertised in nicking that tiny purple life under your left thumb.
To be honest,it didn't come to me as a surprise,that much dreaded call and even though mom is weeping, i had always known you were born to kill yourself... © 2011 Alicante lullabyReviews
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5 Reviews Added on January 15, 2011 Last Updated on January 15, 2011 AuthorAlicante lullabyAboutThe Hanging Man By the roots of my hair some god got hold of me. I sizzled in his blue volts like a desert prophet. The nights snapped out of the sight like a lizard's eyelid: The wor.. more..Writing
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