The room is a blur
as the water rises.
Message in a bottle.
I've lost him to that bottle.
Crack his face
with the poison
that chains him.
Blood pumps
to the white
of his eyes.
Can you see the cuts?
Shattering as he falls,
the baby moves inside me.
Melissa, that last line gathers all the others together and makes sense of it all. Very clever.
This sounds like the story of a mad pregnant woman with an alcoholic partner gone awry...Untitled seems like a good name for this poem...Thanks for sharing
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Melissa Gentile
Tue 21st Feb 2017 23:09
Graham,
I wasn't sure the reader would catch the cohesive value of the last line. Glad to see you noticed. Thanks so much for the feedback!
Juan,
Yes, horribly awry lol. Sometimes I fear that a title will give too much away so I often omit it altogether, but "untitled" seemed to fit this poem well. Thanks for the feedback!