deepundergroundpoetry.com
Devil Did That
The wind chimes are ringing, but there is no wind. The wind chimes have been dead, a long winter ago. It must be my imagination before my lobotomy took my shadow. As if my corpse was swallowed by hypocrisy in my mind's exodus. The blood of my words that inhabited my soul drips before me. Now scripting my silence but the voices are louder in my constricted throat, but my shadow defines me. Falling victim to the horrors behind the willows. The footsteps grow shallower on the staircase but the silence follows me to the water where I lay drowning in a puddle of tomorrows. The dowager's kiss took my breath away and the chimney sweep replaced my ashes with potpourri that came from the ossuary where my bones survive. Swallowed by my canary and the cat wrote the obituary, but who ate the cat? I think the devil did that.
Published 4th May 2023
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4th May 2023 3:29pm
4th May 2023 4:07pm
4th May 2023 5:45pm
For some reason at first this made us think of "Shutter Island," it just did. We liked where it took our mind in and out of itself, tight
4th May 2023 6:13pm
6th May 2023 8:41am
6th May 2023 2:25pm
