Fault Finding

Black and White Poppy

From the bowels, a profusion

Of butterflies stirs

Their blundering flight

Announces your intrusion

And the feast that was within me

Will not serve as a barrier.

I have only to wait you out

Soon enough you will leave

But not before I die unconditionally.

*

A wake of vultures

Holds service in my heart,

The frenzied assimilation

Of your unwelcome presence

And a penitence that I must now attend.

I am tired of hating myself,

Of your eyes scouring

Of the rotten breath

Of the hysterical laughter

That forfeits humor

And I am tired of the advice

Of the meticulously applied faults

Which were never mine to assume.

*

A mirage, a clinical, self-soothing, oasis

The glass here has not been fashioned.

Each grain, a leech, an undulant minion

Endeavoring to empty me of all substance

Baring so many constituents I cannot but mirror

It is not me that you hate, it is your own failings

Which I reflect faithfully

Even though I have no words to define you

Only a dictionary rife with excuses.

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12 responses to “Fault Finding

  1. Love the flow of emotions here. While there is a constant underlying emotion, others take over as we progress through the game. Sadness, guilt, defeat and finally, cold acceptance.

    • Thank you so much! Sometimes we have to sit with it I feel like I have said so many impulsive things that turned out not even to be true I was just having a knee jerk reaction

  2. Truly a powerful piece here – filled with such deep emotions. Definitely leaves one with many feelings – which means – you have succeeded! Well done 😀

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