I guess this is poetry?


That old self

Ergh, I am disgusting.
Sprawled here with my suit open only to the eyes of ghosts.
My eyes are more judging.
A chemical tornado storms out the mouth
But only a light breeze rustles the posters on my dirty wall.
I can see the the corners crinkle in revulsion.
Bastards.

Ergh, what a droll silence.

....What is that hideous noise my ears do reach...or reach do my ears?
I forget.
where's my armour?!
Ah, I'll don my robe, regal as I am.
A sip for courage and now a weapon.
I reach for a broken broom handle
The spider crusher.
yes, this will do nicely.
into my pocket I force..erm..gently slip the large bottle of whiskey.
I won't let you out of my sight sweet nectar.
Onwards!

A slight chill outside, fresh morning air assaying my red nose.
A true blanket of warmth on my skin.
barefoot on cool stone I creep up to my gate
in the darkness outside on the road are two cats, face to face.
I am the intruder here...words fail me.
black shadowy forms, both in moonlight, eyes glistening at me.
We stand there all night, but really it was only a minute or two.
Then they run, and I am alone again.
Sip.



Poetry by ttius
Read 643 times
Written on 2014-05-27 at 22:44

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