What you have and I won't wake.

An encounter with a morning that took me into the depression born of a drawn out romance draining my creativity. Mourning of my ability to feel the zeal I once wrote with. Not exactly a poem.

They slaving away at their contraptions; proxy to bird songs once permeating an open room. Maybe it was the languor of a wounded soul finally festering towards it's last passion. It was him. Tethered love. Monogamy's greed has always left a intrepidity in blight, amity aside. Hoarded embrace of makeshift chains?
Meld to a specific fragment; discarding all vigor in the beauty to be taken exclusively?

She would intimately love no one more- did this strip her bare enough to decide?

Shell lost the color of a blossoming mind. Luster splitting; dilapidated at the flesh.
She was as the walls that had yellowed from years holding the breath of weak men and their cigarette smoke.
She awoke and closed her eyes anticipating to elude continence; experience death awake amongst a clique of clouds producing armor scales; the dragon taking it's fire from her throat.
Conquer nothing but everything.
Required only to chase that chimera just beyond the crest of our margin.
New, free, and independent of those shackles.

Still, she wakes and consciousness does not leave her be.
A dog whining.
A dreary keep emerging.
Consumption jungle soiling.
She awakes to find five toes and tender skin.
A dirty face and expanding flesh.
Sunken eyes and a dull complexion.
A rope and an impatient dog.
An inability to be so overcome by the joy of chase, of pull.
A heavy head and cup of sugar, a teaspoon of coffee.
A pipe and a vacant atmosphere.
A restless mind and a dormant body.

Author's Note

I apologize. I don't exactly know what to categorize this as. Maybe it should be in nonsense. It is, I know, a jumble. Jumble was me as I dropped this and left.

Reviews

[reeyce smythe wilder]

Jumbled...yes, but it was definitely not nonsense. You weave these words like the web of a spider - intricate yet illusive.

"Shell lost the color of a blossoming mind. Luster splitting; dilapidated at the flesh.
She was as the walls that had yellowed from years holding the breath of weak men and their cigarette smoke.
She awoke and closed her eyes anticipating to elude continence; experience death awake amongst a clique of clouds producing armor scales; the dragon taking it's fire from her throat.
Conquer nothing but everything.
Required only to chase that chimera just beyond the crest of our margin.
New, free, and independent of those shackles."

Illusive but powerful. Loved it.