deepundergroundpoetry.com

Even Ghosts Write Letters

It looked as if it was dipped in coffee
The speculum of amnesia in deaths presence
Crumpled and cracked
Like the faces of a broken childhood
It had a dyslexic address
And was penned with a false identity

It's contents where the story of my life
Cancerous and addictive
A bloody, incoherent spew of nonsense
A blatant illusion that spoke of compassion in a lie
Yet brutally honest to the point of offensive intent

It was sealed with delicacy, foreshadowing unpleasant news
It remained a mystery, lying upon my filthy counter
Ignored like the feeble whimper of a kitten locked in a bear trap
Corroding away my resentment for a marionette caged in an asylum
Provoking me..
Until curiosity became toxic
And I gave in to the acrid pleas of a secret I strangely yearned to decipher

Oh goddess..
How I wish I had remained ignorant
I'm so sick of tireless phantoms thieving for my composure

But..

Thanks for the tears
The ones I just can't seem to shed on my own
It felt amazing..
Exhilarating..

Before I realized I was pathetic
Like a traumatized deer
Caught in the headlights of yesterday
I died
Just a little
When I chugged that glass of good ol' Jack D.
Those glasses of liquid him
I felt complete
In that vomit
In that alcoholic serenity

I'm sick of ghost letters
The ones they write with reaper cursive
Cryptic with sanity contradicting cynicism
Is it to much to ask...
To just leave me depressed with the simplicity of abusive lovers
Just to let me drown in nostalgic bottles
I wonder how the living dead manage the art of a quill
Heavy handed yet as graceful as any other mediocre Picasso

Emotionless like my favorite unspoken word
I guess feeling numb is really overflowing with imbecility
Leaking through the cracks of a jaded clarity
But I'm only alive when I'm nothing
So when I'm everything does that make me a spectrum?

Is a letter like a poem...?
A fucked up display of widows to the soul
Never truly true
Until it's the truth in a fairytale?
I've become infatuated with the excuses of another drink
Those irrelevant last words of kerosene kisses embodied in that ink
































Because now I'm abandoned the proper way







kourtnissixxx
Written by kourtnissixxx
Published
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