Wrested From Quintessence in POETRY

Revised: 06/22/2017 5:26 p.m.

  • June 7, 2017, 8:38 p.m.
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I’m seeing all these posts recently - surveys about 2017, the year summed up etc…

That’s not really my style and there’s no singular word to describe the level of Hell I have endured this year which is just the oozing puss from wounds carved open in 2016; now infected.

So here’s my year summed up. Enjoy the metaphors… or don’t, I don’t really care.

I have survived death; twice
Resurrected.

Yet I endure, not sure why, other than to advance the boundaries of suffering.

Illness stricken and injury riddled; my mental capacity is a whittled piece of wood.

Immortal black occurred in a tear-runnelled scream, and then silence, peace; it was like a dream.

Veritably - Heavenly.

Now that I’m dying and all light is grey
I feel my body rotting
My brain says: “Checkmate”.

I long to be with a love I lost to the skeletal hands of death, but a part of me resists the idea to dine with the Devil in defiance of asphyxiating breath.

Scrawny claws rape and rip at my intestine
While blood, mucous and feces even;
Permeates like venom
… … … This clostridium
… … And onerous
… Ulcerative
.Season

Treatable with insurance or financial freedom, but I have neither; just a liquidated life. Lost and sold off to pay for failure; I lay bedridden in the fetal position praying to a deaf entity.

Hand on flesh
Craving death
But it creeps ever slowly

  • A tease, oh tortuous me!

Wincing and squinting with every crippling contraction only exacerbates the herniated discs in my back. Upon mangled vertebrae; Atlas himself, whom supports the weight of the world, crumbles underneath my weakened infrastructure.

Unable to die, I await a fate designed in disguise
A miscreation am I

With as much strength to faintly hold onto a knife
I hover it metaphorically
Contemplating…

… These final days - of my life.

By: Jaye Eryk
Copyright ©2017


Last updated December 30, 2017


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