literature

The Timeline Series

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Literature Text

The Broken Back
Decayed green skin, trickled with gruesome lines,
bulge scars of a short story, that can’t be erased
or cut off. A childish grip, snapped the fawns’ skinny
back, pulled swift to silently break in half.
Veins molested orange, arteries dyed, blueish gray,
ooze free from penalty in this splendid, early grievance.
White noise, messy in a deceived maze, fly in the air,
befuddle and nastily stroke, the baby deer…
The Splintered Ribs
…into a viridian mist. Adapting her blemished youth in
recycled smoke, she looked like a teen, but maturely swept cautious.
Within, echoes of that empty decade, a red doe was native.
Tapped her crimson toes, she sought to conform to the white-tails.
Erupted in vied hunger, she groggily sniffed dusty grounds,
searched blind for a legend named Acceptance.
Drunken by her quaked kneecaps and tripping ankles,
she rolled to her rice paper belly and rested.
Happy in vodka slumber, her head decided to sober,
while he simply spread her curves to his trusted wants.
She yelped to his ragged claws that smothered her neck.
Muzzled her No’s and Stop’s, cut her sides awake,
he leaked her strong muscles into curdled mud
and stained her recently healed smile. Thrusted by
pointed blades, lashed out in an ego jealous grip,
the doe died in the fight. Joining an emerald wind…
The Mute Parade
… she finds the ailing fawn, bowing away but not forgotten.
Glazing their complementary colors, they migrate nowhere.
Weighing down by a hollow ribcage and slump back,
their lacerating minute’s never pass. A stout neck reaches,
catching their whispering remains in permanent antlers.
Hearing secret words and perking her ears to their suffocating reminder.
Flashes of the grabs that slithered like spider leg fingers,
whip at her memories cheek, squinting her libs to snuff out the sting,
and tie back the desperate shrieks that cleave her lungs.
Her ducts flooding, she believes the pain, dripping into the countless nights
on a cold bathroom floor, gagging from too many pills and another failure.
Bellowing for wanting and not wanting help. The blue buck, rearing
tall to her mute wrath, stomps hard to steel her reasoning.
Gaping steps and a feminine kick, she marches on the unspoken road.
Beaten, sliced, swollen, and too much death, this streets stone will be read.
Cradling etchings of their stripped fur and fractured hooves,
the stag, radiant in her precious lapis lazuli, trots with an invisible bevy.
Conducted by a loss, forced onto her at nineteen, the stag protests, fanning
shades of an violent pattern, that is tattooing one in three.
The parade won’t halt until the tragedy is open with lapping mouths.
Sanding gone, an upset sediment, which muffles weak just how coarse reality scabs.
Her conviction, stubborn to buckling, will gallop over the allegations brick wall,
being stimulated by a sunny, cloudless day, that the statistic will dissolve.
© 2016 - 2024 seago
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