Furious Ming (thepeopleseason) wrote,
Furious Ming
thepeopleseason

Untitled

I couldn't find our corpse today.
I recall when you gave it to me,
Bloodied and swollen,
Unadorned and unclothed
From a night shared within your bed.

I couldn't find our corpse today.
The cadaver filched from my arms,
From evenings clutched fast to the frozen flesh
For warmth and weary reveries,
An empty weight sinking dents into the mattress.

I couldn't find our corpse today.
Only slight wisps of the perfume
Of three summers gone,
Packed away in a dusty corner,
Holed and bloated and fetid and rotten.

I couldn't find our corpse today.
Amidst drunken days and troubled sleep
My long wake has ended.
Neither requiem nor blessing nor prayer for absolution fall
All hushed and silent,
Sins unpurged and unpardoned.
Time, both pallbearer and crematorium,
Has robbed me of my monument
And swept away the ash.
Tags: poetry, this sucks, why i suck
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