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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

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insomnia

I need sleep....

 

I would let her rot

a small child, terrified
alone in the grime
in blackness

I would leave her to die
abadoned, and
cold
to save myself
from the decent
to comfort her

I am impaled by her grief
stealing into my nights
her panic devouring me within

in her vacuum
my heart drowns in bitter ice

I would leave her in the filth
to starve, so
I won't see
what she has seen
know why
she no longer opens her eyes, or
how the stains on her white tights
came to be

I want her dead
I want her gone
never exume her foul sorrow

I want us dead
I want us gone
never to imagine again

Mosquitobyte - on Jan. 26 2008

An intruiging piece, full of some fantastic images and thoughts.

I must admit, one part I struggled with in regards to the poem is:

"to save myself
the dirty decent
to comfort her"

It caused me to "stagger" in my reading of the piece, the only real hiccup as I se it. I'm still trying to decide if you meant "the dirty descent" or not. That would actually work quite well with the conclusion to the piece. As "dirty decent", it also works, giving the reader a sense of the "unconvential" thought process. Personally though, I would suggest making it "descent" as it also infers a "descent into madness".

Great read all in all Callooh.

End.

Mos.


Callooh - on Jan. 26 2008

thanks for your thoughtful reading. going over it I agree, the word was extraneous, and the flow is better without it.  I wasn't consciously thinking decent into hell (I was very tired and wanted to write it so I could sleep), but that is what it means.... thanks for that.

thanks again....


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