farewell without saying farewell...? You may use this poem, but it is copyrighted

DYING

I’ve come for your eyes you said
the door shaking between us
my dumb knees braced against you
my shoulder jammed deaf in you
hard I feel you breathing hard
hoarse sighs words clogging my skull
these words choking me stale sounds

you know who it is you said
the lock rattling between us
my heart whines at my ribs
I hear you singing you said
your scorn hissing sharp as hail
ripping my scalp like salt claws
my lips crushed glass dry grinding

ask me what I want you said
these hasps squealing between us
my neck stiffens in its sheath
as I take your blank force heaved
a wave bulging the wall in
my tongue groans at my cracked teeth
rust flakes my throat bloody scales

have you had enough you said
the wood splitting between us
alone in my skin I sweat
under your hard flashing pulse
my flesh turning and turning
its fat seething like kisses
my lungs burnt open crumbling

let’s get it over you said
the door broken between us
my coiled muscles burst apart
my guts spill out at my feet
my bones shatter in crystals
and blow away like blind dust
even before you touch me

you thought you loved me you said
I’m here now take me you said
I will give you what you want
you said nothing more than this
you said your voice flooding me
with your hot blasting silence
why don’t you answer you said

Jascha Kessler

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http://www.jaschakessler.com/

“We have now sunk to a depth at which the re-statement of the obvious is the first duty of intelligent men." George Orwell

"The task is not so much to see what no one has yet seen, but to think what no one has thought about what everyone sees." Erwin Schrödinger. (1887-1961)

Comments

[Denise Brock]

I was a badger near your green but the worms dried up and when we found my dad curled up we left for a new bank. We were at Oldton for centuries - build a castle under that bank - you could hear us tumbling around if you put you head to the grass. Ask Bill Oddie - he came to make a survey on us but we left that night and he found us gone next morning. We had to bury our dad first - his bones must be there still. No one used him as a shaving brush I hope...Den Brock