»
Archives
»
Open Poetry #42
»
Bloody Image
| Open Poetry #42 |
|
Bloody Image |
|
|
reddevil013 Junior Member
since 2008-04-26
Posts 12ON, Canada |
The fog cleared And the blur before me began to take form It was an image of a man He was about my height And looked surprisingly a lot like me too But I knew he wasn’t He was standing there, smiling His deep, brown eyes Somehow staring right into mine yet seeing right through me I returned the gaze I studied the image carefully, for I suspected it would be one I would never forget The man’s hands were coated with drying blood His face was covered with scratches, blood dripping from some of the deeper ones His shirt was ripped and half hanging at his waist There was a big blotch right where his heart should have been But it wasn’t there Instead it lay at his feet, miraculously beating steadily Squirting out little bits of some more blood And sucking it right back in It made the only sound of the otherwise silent night It lay next to a knife, dull and rust in colour That, too, was covered in drying blood I shifted uncomfortably I didn’t like his smile It stayed only at his lips His eyes remained cold and almost lifeless It was a humourless smile A smile without style, you could call it He began to speak softly His lips barely moving He murmured in a voice so low So incomprehensible, I doubted even he could hear himself But then again, he was just an image An image in a mirror Showing exactly what it saw Which obviously was not me I knew it wasn’t me I would never take another man’s life Except my own, maybe? I would never seem as lifeless as he seemed Unless I was dead I would never feel no fear at all Unless I was beyond fear That’s why I knew this wasn’t me I know me He may look like me, but looks only go so far That’s why I knew this wasn’t me That’s why I knew… That’s why… R.D |
||
| © Copyright 2008 J.W - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
