Laugh

Tue, 07/03/2018 - 18:43 -- Alexcis

He was gushing.

Pouring into pools around his crushed, limp body.

He looked so broken.

Jutting appendages at irregular angles.

It was an accident surely.

His death wasn't ment.

He drank till drunk.

He beat till he got bored.

He screeched till he was silenced to nothing but a croak.

However, his soul becoming expelled from its physical form was not purposeful.

His ghost face giving the appearance of a simple overly intoxicated nap.

A face having been seen so many times before.

It was the best he's ever been.

Quiet.

Calm.

Motionless.

Crouched down to receive further proof of his "passing".

Scarlet color stained her knees.

Her hands.

Her body began to quake.

Noise flooding through her throat.

Deep breaths were taken to allow passage of oxygen so it could fill her lungs.

Maniacal, is what some would call it.

Others would say she lost her mind.

She wasn't crying, like most people would.

She wasn't in shock, similar as to everyone around her.

She was laughing.

Hard.

She was expressing joy.

It was not dark or evil.

It was as if she had been told a joke.

Something that compelled her to laugh without the ability to stop.

The sound of people talking on the phone along with the blare of a sirens and horns was a dull whisper compared to her sounds of joy.

Was she, in all actually, laughing out of happiness?

That was undisclosed.

What was known?

The sound coming from the female was not of hysteria and possibly not of her own.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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