“She says she glories in being abandoned”
― J. M. Barrie
the seat of forgotten
where lost dreams
are mice infested memories.
In my bones questions
pierce the eyes of those
brazen enough to walk
the spine of my decay.
From my urban throne
of abandoned the voices
of my remains crawl faded
wallpaper into the ear of fear
or into imagination that thinks
it can speak my unknown tongue.
My days tick toward an eraser,
urban lust to claim what it can never own.
When my heart is the carrion eaten
by steel jaws, my dust delivered to
a toxic grave, my spirit will remain
where it was first planted.
I’ll be the dandelion in rosy,
the chill no one can explain.
I was feeing gothic today.
Well that's weird. The first time, no comment box appeared, but it showed up when I refreshed. Anyway, this is haunting and eludes easy grasp, just as the emotions it contains defy containing. I like it.
ReplyDelete"Where lost dreams are mice infested memories!" - wow! A powerhouse of a poem, too many terrific lines to quote. I especially love the chill no one can explain.
ReplyDeleteThis gave me goosebumps both in the haunting feel and in awe of this amazing poem. I love this my friend!!
ReplyDelete"My days tick toward an eraser,"
ReplyDeleteWow!!
The nothingness of life, so stark in your line.
Fantastic composition.
Thanks for dropping by to read mine
Much💚love
I'm liking the having of a secret tongue language. I didn't get real scared but enjoyed the ride. You did really good on the erasure of living preps, we are sort of doing that here.
ReplyDelete..
We did have the same thought didn't we? Although your poem has such great depth - haunting and lingering.
ReplyDelete'In my bones questions
pierce the eyes of those
brazen enough to walk
the spine of my decay.' - gave me chills.