#9 Hail Mary
Merely a very dark poem.
the hail lightens my apathy
to myself;
replaces it, with an apathy to all.
is it watering me
or drowning out my own
tears
they are one-off tears, i assure myself.
my validation is untrustworthy.
never had my heart broken
and it is still intact
never had the floor under me crack
and it remains still unsplintered.
never had life jolted intermittently in and out of me
so why do i breathe heavy
as i hunt out my self-withering passions
i always embodied an occasional gratitude
a disguise i never truly internalised
that brought worldly utility,
a self-appeasing scar
i let the virtue of gratitude down.
now my nostrils breathe
contaminated complacency.
the hail does not nurture
nor does it care
but it alienates me
from myself;
to my whistle,
it is a flare
without it i will not sleep tonight.
i am the bane of my own prejudices.
the source of a faithful nihilism.
how dare you think me devoted?
i am a Janus-faced believer.
the hail has stopped.
let flesh and bones fall where they may.
look at me, where i lay
they keep naming me human
but i declare
i lay a foetus that decays.
like a frozen soul
around which a cold lantern
in front of which a mirror
silently spitting away rays of warmth
perpetuating its self-disdain…
residue melts on the window;
scars spill water;
it is too dark to refract a rainbow.
and any light that does shine
it is but deception at twilight
a so-called tranquillity hides
its darkness in another’s light.
pity the one that borrows a shadow.
i wish rather for apathy than to be a dusky afterglow
a shield i hold up of misappropriated light.
so look closely and you’ll see
a mirror without it’s skin
a lantern without its ribs
and a soul without a soul
hail, i plead for hope.
you answer me not.
so now i linger.
in the dark.
alone.
