Violet Velvet Oblivion

See also: Cat's Cradle, Chapter 110

Paralysis feels like a nice alternative.

I’m already there, save for the physical.

Scrunched in a corner with a heart

squeezed like a stress ball and lungs

made of yesterday’s newspaper,

I await the guilty verdict.

 

Sure, I may have caused the damage,

but so did the prosecutor, roaming free.

It’s as if he froze the ocean whole,

trapping me below the frosty waves

as he marches on, a nonsense Jesus.

Where is that jury?

 

The twelve come marching in now,

shuffling into velvet chairs as if on cue.

Guilty, they proclaim, as the judge

pounds the gavel, repeating the word.

I, an open book, the fourteenth man,

mutter my hope: “nothing.”

 

My prosecutor, in a final act of malice,

licks his lips slowly, catches my gaze,

and crushes a bright red ball of foam.

Reviews

[Beau Maysey]

Wow, this is really good. I'm rubbish at non-rhyming poetry, but you weave everything together so well it flows seamlessly. Way to go setting up this tense environment and really making me feel for your speaker. I feel like deeper analysis or more research would give me a more complete story of what context surrounds this trial, but in the meantime, I enjoy the imagery presented here. Nice job! :D