Taste of cherry brandy and carbon monoxide.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


a stranger to the fresh air that ever so rarely seeped in,
more accustomed to dense smoke filled air,
which held a little too much carbon dioxide, monoxide too,
the gas filled pipes with gas seeping through,
rusting, aging, iron pipes, now beginning to hold holes,
she breathed in her death, and thought of life goals.

Agrophobia had taken a grip of her throat, tightly,
and she never spoke to anybody anymore, not even her family,
she spoke to herself though, with alarming frequency,
her pet bird had died the other day, still lay in a pit of feathers,
in it's cage, she was too sad and scared too remove him, however,
she felt safe reaching for a pack of cigarettes,
holding one too her lips, lighting with an old lighter she had kept.

days went on and her head was getting heavy, striking pain,
she flicked through tv channels,though when her ariel broke due to rain,
books and sudoku kept her mind somewhat sane,
taking apsirin and paracetemol, with a glass of cherry brandy,
she thought back to the days when she had left her place, it had all been dandy,
occasionally she invited a male partner around, when she had gotten randy,
but recent failings in her more public private life left her resigned,
she began to feel that everyone was a stranger, all so fucking unkind.

her head hit the cold side of a second hand pillow from her late aunt that night,
and as she closed her weary eyes, she did see her last living sight,
the gas leakage and lack of anyone to see, to care,
meant that her naked breasts and sprawled out legs, were left to lay there,
for a couple of weeks or so, rotting, her decaying face covered by her pretty hair,
only discovered when the bailifs came to collect her furniture for failure to pay rent,
of which she had refused to pay for months out of anger at the world anyway.

Submitted: April 08, 2012

© Copyright 2022 kjayk. All rights reserved.

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