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The Bluejay

My sorrows on display for all to see
Worn on the smile of every dopeboy in town
No drug can mask the hurt anymore
Blood bleeds right through the first coat of white paint
Shirts sliced to the collar
Bottles of spit and piss encased in walls of flies
The  reflection of the dead lady in a white dress
The menacing creaks and moans of a dying home
A home that holds us hostage
We bear the cross of guilt and shame
Megalithic in its weight
Arthritic in its wake
I am a residual haunting afraid of its own manifestation
My shadows aren't adding up and I sense I am being followed
Just like you said
The phantom footsteps of children who never got the chance to walk pummel our hearts to pulp
Spectral mother holds them safely in her arms
nickbar
Written by nickbar (Nick Bartek)
Published | Edited 20th Jan 2020
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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