It shares my bed and pecks at my dreams,
Claws at my thoughts.
Each morning I wake,
Look into its empty eyes
Pinioned to the bed, no will to rise.
I scuttle through shreds of mind
Like a beetle through dead leaves
Searching for life.
Yet still I rise, complete the empty actions of my day.
Stroking my wounds with poisoned talon
Seeping the life from out this shell
Ending this time of living hell.
Beautiful and poignant. Glad you got the all clear. Writing about these things can be very therapeutic x
All clear = best news ever ?
Thanking you all for reading and commenting. I'm clearing out all my old notebooks and burning them, a couple of old poems caught my eye demanding to be rescued before cremating those years.
<Deleted User> (18118)
Thu 28th Jun 2018 17:41
Very strong and meaningful.
Brave too.
Hannah
Frances Macaulay Forde
Thu 28th Jun 2018 14:49
So relieved you pulled through...
Just wanted to say that this was written 5 years ago and I pulled through. Got the all clear last July.
Think about what the other C word could possibly be, Graham, combined with the imagery of poison and death.
Great piece Hazel.
Now this has got me thinking (which is dangerous). Is there a hidden message? Short enough to read over and over again. What’s the maguffin?
<Deleted User> (13762)
Thu 28th Jun 2018 07:38
another excellent poem Hazel - thanks for posting. Col.
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d.knape
Fri 10th Aug 2018 02:28
this is powerful.
so good.