Creases
DHMIS, Red & Duck. Red’s Perspective
Off the story pages, I tried to leap out of the inky, dusty words
I tried to creep out of the black, tar-like smudge that was bludgeoning my existence
Into a dead pool of the snow-hell, black-hole sun devastation
I gripped onto the yellowed floor of the once pristine white flour paper
It was no surprise it felt slippery and uneven, a drooping, loopy mess
Am I a character of a once forgotten forged nightmare, or a true romance with a sudden halting, screeching, bloody
End?
My darling, my very lovely, cranky old bird,
Do I know your name,
Or does that even matter
As you can grip that unseen force of my own pneuma, at the very bottom of my deepest river inside, gripping it like the Jaws of Life
Holding, steadfast and fierce,
Scraping off the gunk and breathing in
The fire I so desperately
Desired, Needed
To escalate my feelings into motion.
No, our names are scattered to a long forgotten storm, old and beautiful and lost
And we can feel our identities intertwining in that shared rain,
It does not need a title or a link to the natural order of nomenclature
But our story has creases, my love.
And the creases fold over
Waves of ocean
Hurricanes
That sound like they can move the earth
And reform it into a new chapter
Off the story pages
I leapt
I faltered
I loved
I cried
I built
I sank
I tumbled, I fell
No one can escape their own story, my darling
So let us create a new one
About the Creator
Melissa Ingoldsby
I am a published author on Patheos,
I am Bexley by Resurgence Novels
The Half Paper Moon on Golden Storyline Books for Kindle.
My novella The Job and Atonement will be published this year by JMS Books
Comments (1)
wow, what I thought I understood about the poem changed at the end. Very interesting indeed.