Litany of Scars

The room tore itself apart at
its unseen seams. The floor mumbled
and rumbled its discontent while
the ceiling thundered open a giant hole
in its center, through which a
rageful, red-eyed morning sun hung
and frigid needles of rain hissed.

You are not a monster!
the musician shouted at the soul
in the hole, shielding his own face
from the rain with a finger-spread
umbrella hand. Now come out
of there before this room
collapses and we all die!

You don’t know me! D.S. shouted
back at the musician. I was bread,
crust and crumble, broken apart
inside the moment I was made,
endless lyric loops consuming me
inside the songs which that man wrote.
I came into form by his curiosity

and then he abandoned me. Meanwhile,
I carried out the instructions buried in
my filaments: fuck and run, bullet and gun,
my curse-laden breath blaming God
for my hell-drenched skin.

Aanteekwa said: But God is not to blame.
He replied: I know that now. I figured
out that this machine in which we all exist
had bestowed upon me sentience:
it was then that I knew that if that man
had written me with the virgin mind
and unscarred skin of a newborn, then
my existence would not be flawed
and I would not be wanting. But he
did not, and I paid for his dalliance.

Aanteekwa peered through the gash
in the wall and saw prickled pink wounds
scrubbing away D.S.’ skin. She gasped.
He wiped his face and looked at her
with sorrow-swollen, scarlet-lined eyes.
He held up a strawberry-scarred arm
and laughed, storm clouds stirring
inside his blurry olive irises.
Can you beat this? he boasted.

Fishnet floated in the air, suspended
by a slim silver string. He said nothing,
only watched Aanteekwa and the
two young men trying to extract their friend
from his ragged black window
while the wind rattled the room apart.

Written 1/13/14
© 2014 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

—————————————————
This poem was written for We Wordle #02 and is a continuation of “An Empire of Dirt“. Words used: floor, mumble, thunder, morning, sun, hang, hissed, umbrella, bread, abandoned, wanting, scrubbed, strawberry, storm, stirs, fishnet, floats, string, window, rattling. Can they convince D.S. to come out before the room destroys itself? Keep reading.

-Nicole

About ravenswingpoetry

I am a 37 year old writer from Columbus, OH and the creator of Raven's Wing Poetry. I am a poet, seeker, fellow traveler, and Aspie.
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7 Responses to Litany of Scars

  1. Misky says:

    Very tease, indeed. :)

  2. 1sojournal says:

    What a vivid tale you are finding in all of these words,

    Elizabeth
    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2014/01/13/stormy-night-shadows/

  3. I love the description of his eyes. This is an intriguing bit of Flashy Fiction poem you’ve created here!

  4. Irene says:

    I’m amazed that the words combust the story. Prepared to continue to be amazed.

  5. julespaige says:

    And this is why I enjoy wordles… they help to give one unexpected directions.
    I continue to be enchanted.

    I played with this list here:
    http://juleslongerstrandsofgems.wordpress.com/2014/01/13/qweekly-and-wwp-more-than-just-a-ticket/

  6. Pingback: Enter the Dragon | Raven's Wing Poetry

  7. Sabra Bowers says:

    I like how you used strawberry. I’ve not seen a strawberry scar in a long time. I also like olive eyes. Made me wonder…green or black.

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