LAW OF JUNGLE

 These days

 I forget the names of books 

I noted in literature class 

in hope to read on sunday afternoons.

I wish to climb mountains 

of another continent, panting in the golden sun.

The kitchen is lonely.

Silence sleeps there.

There is pain and

I hear the chorus of demons 

while I fight the ghosts.

Dirty boots clutching my lungs, 

my breath 

a poor prisoner.

People move around me their eyes so big like cartoons,  sniffibg like dogs asking me 

"how are you ".

When I pull my clothes out of hangers 

In my head 

I count the pills I swallowed.

One. Two. ..... Thirteen. 

The unlucky number they say. 

But if I could I will 

tattoo  it in my back with acid.

The boy chanted he loved me

 and then left me 

I should thrust a book 

on his throat 

So that his words  with dripping honey 

won't kill anyone else.

Still I think about him, 

a parasite in neon red.

It hurts. I feel cold.

Am sleepy.

It must be

the law of jungle that 

the prey should die .

Comments

  1. AnonymousFebruary 20, 2022 at 2:38 PM

    Be brave don't be the typical prey. It's time to change the law of the jungle. Survive. Show the predators whose the Queen.

    ReplyDelete

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