SilenceA Poem by Alicante lullabyThe silence depressed me.It wasn't the silence of silence.It was my own silence.(Sylvia Plath)It has limbs and living breasts and n*****s. It has claws and tentacles. It has a mouth and oh my god,lips too. And everything in the room and everything around the room seemed to facilitate its entry within me.I could see those dark eyes staring skywards as it sank down...down to my nadir.(The eyes,the eyes exactly resembled mine) I could hear the gentle tinkling of two forsaken bangles on its brown wrists,lifeless brown wrists limping like dead fish as it evacuated my being of everything...A complete evacuation...the kind of one that you feel when you are sitting on a hospital bed after your first abortion...feeling clean and immaculate ..feeling clean,immaculate and virginal again ...The silence,my silence shot through me like my own personal enema vacating everything. Everything was wheezing outside me,as if in a sibilant rhonchi...The world was jampacked with noises and emotions.It felt like all was still pumping,pumping in joie de vivre ,only my body had slumped back into its petit mort...sweating and exhausted and totally wasted ..The traffic was speaking,the kabli wala was wailing and there was mama there too,yellow skinned like a Spanish lemon but oh so very silent...I realised we carry this silence in genes and i had thought it would hurt much more to acknowledge that the only thing silent is you,that only thing wrong with you is you. And I felt like a one year old horrifyingly lonely with a tongue that no one understands. I had already told him... I'll survive everything...three coats of my lipshade and many more coats of this makeup and layers and layers of clothing and then the bouts of ecstasy and irrepressible sadness and occasional dishevelling and then retreading.. My death shall be this silence, my silence. You were curing the wrong thing...this silence is my death. © 2011 Alicante lullabyAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Stats
323 Views
7 Reviews Added on February 2, 2011 Last Updated on March 20, 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
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|