If I looked down
from the sky
would you find me there
to say goodbye.
Goodbye.
A mind finding solace in a melancholic word.
Tautological poetry; a means of confusion given to a shallow place.
A place I'd love to leave more than anything I've ever loved before.
This blue overhead stained by a dichotomy of pinkish sunsets and a dismal blackened canopy.
Carving an elegy into my skin so perhaps I could convince myself to back away from everthing in which was ending.
However, it was buckled to my footprints, inches from a precipice.
An erasure of my existence; if or when.
And I can't conceptualize if this is apprehension or mitigation.
Either way, reminiscence could erase me.
Or possibly save me.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Phthalo Tavallai and writers in Poets and other communities.
Zenith
Start writing...Indigo clouds paint dawn, another evening I descend into the Trifid Nebula; pools of dark matter cancel the existence of stars. A state of pervasive tenebrosity now just simply a vignette and I've lost recollection of three and a half days of my life, as small and trifle as it is to any passerby who can't grasp sonder. Ultraviolet radiation is fundamental to tunnel-vision and making any sort of promise to survive would be no aphorism. I know that when the sky is happy it turns pink, however such a feeling can't persist for long before it succumbs to overcast. My uncertainty may not suppress to wait each time. My wavering molds my notions to the overhead color-spectrum and I'd never lie unless I believed it myself. Supernovas are unpredictable, but we can predict they'll emanate their being for as long as they can. Supposed I'd be stabilized yet only dulled down to a stupor, but I guess it's better than surrendering my gravitational pull to a trampoline. The unfortunate dichotomy between being plugged into the sun before being burnt to a crisp. Planets always come full circle, just as a clinical representative. The blackness beyond zenith forever remains endless..... just as a clinical representative
By Phthalo Tavallai3 years ago in Poets
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.