straw man
boy with a gun without bullets
they put him on a pedestal
he was supposed to score, but his efforts
remained futile
a figurine in their hands
twisted and tossed on demand
away from the self-made man;
they were asking too much of a lone man in the trenches
he had his own battles to tackle
TIA caused by cigarettes and alcohol
before he could even pass
his third decade
eyes sore and fast food galore;
from the first attempt to the last
he was distant, yet moving fast
landed in my heart for a year
he found himself
a supposedly safe and sound spot
has he realised this yet?
that his fast journey was cut short
and the same was departure
although now I don’t want him to leave
he reappears in my dreams regularly and so on
he pleads with me
will he ever find out these things
if I let him (w)in again?
---
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About the Creator
Mescaline Brisset
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
so you want to be a writer? – Charles Bukowski
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More stories from Mescaline Brisset and writers in Poets and other communities.
An Adventure Through Hell
Emaciated arms covered by the tiniest bit of flesh capture me, holding me close to its decaying form. Gnarled and thin fingers pull my dark hair. Screams of anguish surround me, somehow reverberating from the empty chasm. I punch and watch as bits of grey flesh disintegrate into dust. Scratching at the caverns where its eyes should have been, I could only hope for an end to this hell. The sounds of torment continued, assaulting my ears with one tremendous roar.
By Isabella Roseabout 20 hours ago in Horror
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