Beef of Comfort

In your sepulchral mind,

I was never laid repose

Next to

All the things you thought

were alive.

-

Nightshade and rose.

Fade and glow.

Sun and moon.

-

That boon, that boom

Was only an alligator

Waiting to thunder.

A gourmands hunger

In the womb of someone

Exiguous and Green.

-

Green for a pay.

Climax for a rush.

-

I flee my own pain

To somewhere serene,

To a blue lagoon,

So I can lampoon

monotonous

Infidelity in its own sonorous

pool.

-

To be young is to be young.

To be old is to be old

Once.

-

What colour is her hair?

How wide her hips ?

How tall has she grown to

malignancy,

Pullulating in your thoughts?

-

Is she at the stage of

Carcinoma?

Your gaze vellicates,

Then antagonizes her skin.

-

I ravaged our rubbled sheets

To excavate my furrowed

brows,

Finding expired makeup.

The secrets I am.

Am I the wasted

hairstyles in the vacuum

brush?

-

All the hits and misses.

I yearn for someone.

I’ve fed you beef of comfort,

But I’ve had to call you back

From the abysmal sewage.

-

I’ve fed you beef and

comfort.

I sat alone with vegetables

and water,

Feeding you piquancy, and patience, and the susurrus

peace I

loan.

-

I will stay blindly alive instead

of a coma.

A/N: I've had to go to some uncomfortable places in order to write this poem, but at least I had fun with my thesaurus. Where have you been in your life lately? What suffering has befallen you? Thank you so much for reading, my lovely friends and the talented writers I am among! 🤗❤️🙏🏽