Delirium

Delirium

Darkness envelopes the tiny cracked lights,

breaking through shadowed crevasses of slivered moments.

The uneven fragments bounce and shatter,

their jagged edges sharp with dulled, dripping memories.

Contemplation strays silently in wait,

and wonders the choices yet to come.

 

Is it best not to tell the secrets?

Or have the secrets morphed from the twisted truths?

Truths devoured whole by protective lies,

and panicked passive pain to hold them all in perpetual place.

 

A thousand times the poison’s been swallowed,

only to be writhed and wretched out,

again and again…

violently ejected,

spewed through sight…

sound…

taste…

Yet… bleeding orifices silent as a crystal tear

still standing in the rancid rain.

 

It’s the kind of thing not spoken of,

the kind of thing you turn from,

the thing you see but can never unsee…

Like coming upon a crime scene with a week’s old rotting corpse

lying in the blistering summer sun.

Taboo.

Solidly fermented to your forever memory.

 

Reviews

[Pete]

the title alone drew me in. some truths can't be easily digested so they simmer in a slow boil. to tell or not to tell - that is the question. truths will never be known unless someone has the courage to tell - reliving it is not an easy thing but that's when healing can begin and moving on. closets with their skeletons need to be cleaned eventually or they get too cluttered. the truth can be suppressed for a time but it seems to find a way of coming out. powerful write ... :)

[Seriana]

Thank you Pete! I really appreciate your comments on this piece. I find head thoughts sometimes difficult to express, especially the ones that aren't so happy. People don't want to hear non-happy things. But keeping all that clutter up there isn't healthy either. Glad you liked it, and thank you for the nice comments. :)