inspiration.
And when the sting of my sleep wasn’t poisoning my brain, I teetered on the precipice of my prison wall with nothing but an inky nebulous below. The slightest gust of wind or the change in barometric pressure would be the catalyst that plunged me into those lurid depths. I gave no resistance to the gusts of icy air, and surrendered to gravity. In freefall, I plummeted into the mire, acquiesced to the darkness, obediently bowed to its command.
STONE COLD By Emari Sweet
Cold, Stone cold
Piercing frost, frigid ice
Tender flesh, damaged soul
My heart may break
And soon may shatter
For it has turned
Cold
Stone cold
Only rage, burning hot
Conquers all the others
Suppressed and pressed on every side
Show nothing…feel nothing
BE NOTHING
O how I long for a gentle touch
Soft and warm
A caress that desires nothing in return
A hand that seeks to give and not to take
And yet I stand
All alone and
Cold
Stone cold
A warm wind blows, not long enough
To melt this stone cold heart
Icy prison, Frozen gates
I’m safe from you, yet trapped within
Who will crash the gates and rescue me
No figment knight in shining mail
Sets me free
Captive of
My cold
My stone cold heart
Unrequited dreams
Delusions, illusions and fairy tales
A fool’s errand to believe
Daydreams shattered
Reality’s icy shards
Ruins at my feet
And the scattered battered pieces
Of my cold
My stone cold heart
Chapter 6 My Last Breath
My days fused together, drifted in diverse shades of grey.
Ivy came out to the house one day to check on me. She knocked and rang the bell. My phone remained off and I hadn’t yet bothered to check messages. She was worried. Baby did that. She knew I was home. There were no new tire tracks in the freshly fallen snow, so my car remained in the carport, right where she parked it when we got home from the hospital the other night. I could hear the clump clump of her combat boots as she paced the length of the porch.
I just wasn’t ready. I sat on my bed, curled in a ball, my arms wrapped around my legs, and watched her reflection in the hall mirror. Animatedly, she talked to someone on her cell phone as her free hand gesticulated dramatically. So Ivy. I could only rock and hum to myself. As much as it grieved me to see her sweet care-worn face twisted in worry, it just couldn’t be helped. I was safe. I was where I needed to be, where I chose to be. Alone.
Finally, she placed a beautiful bouquet of mixed flowers by the door and heaved a vaporous sigh. Her fear that I’d done something self-destructive vibrated through her, but she turned and shuffled miserably through the snow to her car and drove away. Perhaps the person on the phone had assured her of my safety; although, I wasn’t aware of anyone with that kind of surety.
I listened as her tires crunched through the frozen snow and the memory of her pain overwhelmed me. I rummaged through the mountains of Kleenex for my cell phone and cursed it for booting so slowly. Finally, the screen glowed: a picture of the three of us, Ivy, Jesse and me, mugging for the camera. I messaged, “Baby, I’m OK. Honest. Plz, just a little time. Will call. Promise. Sweets.”
* * *
Darkness slipped over the house. The living room glowed TV blue in the wee hours of the morning, the only light in the house. I lay cocooned in a thick fleecy blanket on the couch, a cup of cooling herbal tea on the floor within reach. I watched the glowing screen without seeing for what seemed like eons, until the twang of a country western crooner pierced my non-thought. Images of frail, neglected puppies and kittens intermixed
And when the sting of my sleep wasn’t poisoning my brain, I teetered on the precipice of my prison wall with nothing but an inky nebulous below. The slightest gust of wind or the change in barometric pressure would be the catalyst that plunged me into those lurid depths. I gave no resistance to the gusts of icy air, and surrendered to gravity. In freefall, I plummeted into the mire, acquiesced to the darkness, obediently bowed to its command.
STONE COLD By Emari Sweet
Cold, Stone cold
Piercing frost, frigid ice
Tender flesh, damaged soul
My heart may break
And soon may shatter
For it has turned
Cold
Stone cold
Only rage, burning hot
Conquers all the others
Suppressed and pressed on every side
Show nothing…feel nothing
BE NOTHING
O how I long for a gentle touch
Soft and warm
A caress that desires nothing in return
A hand that seeks to give and not to take
And yet I stand
All alone and
Cold
Stone cold
A warm wind blows, not long enough
To melt this stone cold heart
Icy prison, Frozen gates
I’m safe from you, yet trapped within
Who will crash the gates and rescue me
No figment knight in shining mail
Sets me free
Captive of
My cold
My stone cold heart
Unrequited dreams
Delusions, illusions and fairy tales
A fool’s errand to believe
Daydreams shattered
Reality’s icy shards
Ruins at my feet
And the scattered battered pieces
Of my cold
My stone cold heart
Chapter 6 My Last Breath
My days fused together, drifted in diverse shades of grey.
Ivy came out to the house one day to check on me. She knocked and rang the bell. My phone remained off and I hadn’t yet bothered to check messages. She was worried. Baby did that. She knew I was home. There were no new tire tracks in the freshly fallen snow, so my car remained in the carport, right where she parked it when we got home from the hospital the other night. I could hear the clump clump of her combat boots as she paced the length of the porch.
I just wasn’t ready. I sat on my bed, curled in a ball, my arms wrapped around my legs, and watched her reflection in the hall mirror. Animatedly, she talked to someone on her cell phone as her free hand gesticulated dramatically. So Ivy. I could only rock and hum to myself. As much as it grieved me to see her sweet care-worn face twisted in worry, it just couldn’t be helped. I was safe. I was where I needed to be, where I chose to be. Alone.
Finally, she placed a beautiful bouquet of mixed flowers by the door and heaved a vaporous sigh. Her fear that I’d done something self-destructive vibrated through her, but she turned and shuffled miserably through the snow to her car and drove away. Perhaps the person on the phone had assured her of my safety; although, I wasn’t aware of anyone with that kind of surety.
I listened as her tires crunched through the frozen snow and the memory of her pain overwhelmed me. I rummaged through the mountains of Kleenex for my cell phone and cursed it for booting so slowly. Finally, the screen glowed: a picture of the three of us, Ivy, Jesse and me, mugging for the camera. I messaged, “Baby, I’m OK. Honest. Plz, just a little time. Will call. Promise. Sweets.”
* * *
Darkness slipped over the house. The living room glowed TV blue in the wee hours of the morning, the only light in the house. I lay cocooned in a thick fleecy blanket on the couch, a cup of cooling herbal tea on the floor within reach. I watched the glowing screen without seeing for what seemed like eons, until the twang of a country western crooner pierced my non-thought. Images of frail, neglected puppies and kittens intermixed
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