Coma
Flowers on my windowsill
Pale and lifeless, cut
And steeped in old water
Their heads shun the light.
The scent of the lilies
Streaks my mind, lost
As it is in memories
With no hope of return.
This bed, my soft grave,
White as the skin
Which papers my bones,
Holds a memory alone.
Jessica West said,
06/08/2013 at 19:29
Vivid imagery, this piece reaches past the senses to touch the soul.
celenagaia33 said,
06/08/2013 at 19:37
Thank you, dear friend. I wrote this last year when in a particularly bad place. Lucky for me, I woke up.
Jessica West said,
06/08/2013 at 19:40
Lucky for the world, it would be a much darker place without people like us to hold the shadows at bay and keep them occupied. 😉
celenagaia33 said,
06/08/2013 at 19:41
Good shout, that 😉 We take the darkness inside and annul it with our own wicked ways
Jessica West said,
06/08/2013 at 21:31
haha… yes!