The reunion 6 9 04

poem by: Raychill Ellisonwonderland
Written on Dec 09, 2015

Sit there, backs turned, Eyes Wired Shut, disconnected from your gut.

Bowels Moving to the Rhythm of your Heart Pumping.  Mouth Open and Shut, Spilling Shit.

Ears Closed to those Who Know.

Head Throbbing in the Sand, It’s far too hard.

Shaking Hands, Don’t You Wonder where the Fingers have been? 

Sit there, Backs Turned, Eyes Wired Shut.

Screaming Pain into Nowhere.

Sore Throat, Screwed Face, Shake My Hand. Don’t You wonder where My Palm has been? 

Sit there, Backs turned, eyes wired shut.

Monsters Coming in the Night.

Thrusting Back and Forth to its Delight.

Sleep walking Sniffing out, whose nightmare will it be.

Sit there, Backs turned, Eyes Wired Shut.

Fingers Stench of Innocence, Body Reeks of Guilt.

Those around him bathe him well.

Sit there, backs turned, eyes wired shut disconnected from your gut.

Trophies counted in the ground, shallow faces, plastic molds, laughing at the Shadows of those who know.

Open Scabs festering under lights.  Pricked and poked with salt, Rubbed gently into Frenzy.

Sit there, backs turned, eyes wired shut.

Screaming Agony into Everywhere.  Kiss My Cheek.  Don’t you wonder what my Mouth has seen?

Fucking Drinking Tempers, Smoking.

Underlying trying to retreat into warmth, needing protection, given.

Sit there, backs turned, eyes wired shut.

Ghosts from your past in your face.  Hanging for you to see.  Cut down too late.  Held by Four, Skin cold as.

Just sit there, turn your back, but Open your eyes, Please.

Screaming babies.  Do you ask where my child has been? 

Silent Mourning, Red Hot Night, Monsters coming again.  

Stop all Breath, Movement, and Freeze in the Red Hot Glow of White Stuff Erupting.

Check the garments. What size is his?  Compare Crutches.

Sit there, backs turned, open your fucking eyes. Wrench the shit from your ears.

He’s pulled his head out. See for Yourself.  The Gap is far too wide.

A mere 50 paces ready to go the Distance. Can’t stop the momentum.

Those around him bathe him well.  

Don’t fucking turn your backs, with your Silver slithered tongues sitting on the fence.

Swords are out defending, slicing bodies easy.  Making Skeletons Alive and Out.

Whispering knives to Stab in the Back.

Fuck you. Wake Up.

Treading Softly Fearing Toes, Walking Balancing on Breakable Shells.  Thus the Choice for those Who Know.

Wake the Fuck up.  Toll’s more than your Fingers and toes.

Children Safe, Secure for those who know, pleading for others to be Sure.

Turn around before the Nightmare Haunts your Wired Eyes Shut.

Nerves Dancing, Wild, Mixing Froth. Spewing Monsters Love the Stuff.  

Body parts Grow with Terror, Turned on by little bodies with No Hair. Say No.

Mouth Wired Shut.  

Voice Strangled Gone for No Good.  Spirit Broken will Never Find Peace’s Again.

Get Fucked. Keep Your Fucking Backs Turned.  Fill Your Fucking Ears with Cement so, your Eyes together.  Shit, you don’t seek permission, it’s done.

HI’s and Lows, eyes darting from face to face to face, searching. Found.  Comforting to Know.  Just out of Reach But sharing a Glance.  Finally Safe for a Second. Gone. 

Don’t Cry.

Go.

 

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Frank byrne commented:
Wow!...Raychill.....was that a bad dream??........

 

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