dead language

trigger warning: mention of violence and blood

public.jpeg

you grabbed me
by my
angel wings
and pulled
until there was
nothing left
but my bruised,
bleeding back.

was it funny,
the way i
cried?
did you enjoy
hearing me
scream?
did my suffering
amuse you?
fix you?
heal you?

was it worth it
to betray the trust
of an angel?

- cor aut mors
(heart or death)?

kari luna

there is no one left (but the dead roses and old owls)
to remember my name.
there is no one, but the wind,
to recall the weight
of my skeleton.

there is nothing left for me.
the earth crawls into my mouth,
my dry tongue cannot push it away.
tree roots claw their way
around my rib cages.
i sink. sink. sink.
forgotten.
my death buries the language
that the roses once knew.
my passing leaves no echo.
leaves no trace.
no footprint.
no scribble on stone.

there is no one left
to remember my mother’s tongue.

cheyenne raine


writers:

we invite you to write a poem, piece of prose or short story in the comments on this week’s theme “dead language” ~ if your piece doesn’t fit in the comment box, feel free to post it online and comment the link where we can find your work! enjoy!

readers:

feel free to leave a comment about your thoughts or what you love about any of the pieces, from kari and cheyenne’s work to the work in the comments. thank you for your endless support!

Cheyenne RaineComment