Aeonian

Dear child,

 

Unravel me.

I am lost, a spider embedded in her own web.

Push, fidget, scratch, claw

Fingernails on their death bed.

Gnawed by fear, gargled by pain,

Spit out by forgiveness.

Tangled once more.

 

Screeching mirror

What horror stares back.

Empty brown orbs project an abyss

Lips with stitches

Throat tied like a noose.

Remorse, hate,

I am rage incarnate.

 

Forgive me.

Lifeless hands gliding down

Past caved in chest

To the burial ground.

You were warm here,

Protected, small, embraced

My eternal amaranth

This was your womb

Alas, my child, I have condoned your fragile body.

A home turned into a tomb.

 

Love me.

Your heartbeat echoes in these walls all around.

I am hallow, mute,

Fill me with sound again.

Sprawled on the table, aching in pain, metallic scent invading my space.

Bleed!

Bleed!

Bleed!

Give this blood a Biblical name for I hadn’t even thought of yours.

Lungs depraved of your first gasp of air

Fingers that will never wrap around mine

You will never feel my kisses

Never inhale the smell of your mother.

 

Calm me.

My heart will be your new home

My lungs will breathe your name

No my child, I have not lost you.

I never had the chance to love you.

This body is a room, vacant yet patient awaiting your return.

It shall be adorned with the most opulent jewels.

My love never ending,

Aeonian.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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