How should you
feel when you see
the man you believed
was dead, who
tried to take your life? Filled
with burning
relief, still I lost
my appetite when
I saw him,
that secret gagged
and bound behind
his teeth, captivating
the woman hanging
on his arm, dazzling
expectations strangling
her left ring finger. He will take
her home, bury her
alive in his
parents’ basement.
2 comments:
Whoa.
I've found that this is the most common response, "whoa", or "wow", which really isn't very descriptive; yet, I am satisfied that the poem is emotive. I too said "whoa." when the inspiration/feeling/words came to me. Though it's true that I wrote it, it still kind of creeps me out. It came from me, but it isn't necessarily auto-biographical. I say this only to affirm that I'm not brooding dark hatred toward someone who tried to kill me. Surely that's not what the poem is getting at. :)
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