Indoctrination

by Saerelune   Jul 19, 2013


I refuse to sleep tonight, need to keep
the dead weight on my chest
alive, as if it's truly there,
touchable like spilt tea on skin,
or the cold, metallic mockery of scissors
swishing past my forehead at
the hairdresser.

I need to multiply my sadness
with an extravagant amount
of insomniac midnights.
I need to remind myself
there are too many ways
to deepen a wound, and that blood
has enough shades to paint with.

I need to remind myself
there's no art in loving.

I need to open a door and capture
my foot between light and dark, I need
to tie my shoes with closed eyes.

I need to iron my cerement
and cement my nails
the colour of your hair.

I need to to steal your scissors
and bury it somewhere
closer to my chest.

20-07-2013
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Latest Comments

  • 11 years ago

    by Britt

    So many senses in the first stanza, it's overwhelming but in a good way. I love how you bring in contrasts and something people NEVER do -- talk about keeping the weight alive.

    It's funny, because I find this poem sarcastic. Technically these are a lot of things people generally don't want to do. But you're craving to do the wrong things here, and it makes me feel like you have this over-dramatic idea of what life is supposed to be, but because it isn't, you're going to create it one way or another.

    But only the second stanza kind of changes that a little with the last two lines.. a bit of clarity in the chaos.

    I have absolutely no idea what you're really feeling here, lol. I need to re-read a bit more.

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