November is bleeding, again, like my hands. I left a trail of bloody prints all the way home. Cemetery awake I lay with no fear, come take me blasted air full of nothingness and in November's care. I pause.
With all the madness, I suffocated. I bred to escape loneliness. Is it selfish. Tattoo of misinterpretation plastered across my back. I can feel dead baby's fingernails scratching through. The skin is too thin not to break. I lay in no fear, I asked for this.
November is collapsing in my death grip. My old familiar palm decaying in the everlasting sun, which has now turned from bright to black. I could create more chaos, instill a war. Instead I take this beating I brought on myself. No fear I shall have, laying upside down in Hell's gallows whispering lullabies to the endless sleepers and the slaughtered sheep I could have called a daughter if only,
if only I had not feared my own enemy, a pregnancy, so wild and grotesque. To cut out the flesh with bare hands and dirty instruments. That is real fear, my dear, as I lay us both to rest.
Author notes
does it make any sense at all?
Comments
Comments
-
Did everything come back okay with the tests? Does this have something to do with that?
I'm not sure if this based in truth, or if you're telling a story. It seems like it could be both, a little bit. It makes sense, it's coherent. And if I didn't know you, I'd be less confused. >_< Anyway,
it seems to me, like the person in piece feels guilty for having (an) abortion(s), because they would have liked to known how the child would have turned out. It also seems like the person either died metaphorically or in reality for how she felt. I don't know, it's nine in the morning, and I've been up too long.
I like the title and the way it encapsulated the prose. I wish I could come back from a dry spell and rock as hard as you do. DAMN YOUR AWESOME CANADIANISM!
Haha, my spell checker says Canadianism is an actual word. I had no idea. God, I'm sorry. Anyway, Great piece, whether my interpretation is wrong or not.
-
-
I go to the doc today for my tests. But I'm definitely not pregnant nor have I ever been. But you got the story right, it's the sadness from giving up and dying inside from the guilt and pain. For someone who has never had one, I sure write a lot about them. Hm, I never knew Canadianism was a word either but my spell checker didn't underline it either. Woot (now that isn't a real word according to Firefox). You're always right with your interpretations, I never am. Maybe you just know me too well bwahaha.
-
Adding your comment:
