A Week Washed Up In Melancholy’s Undertow

~*~

SUNDAY: TIE ME UP AGAIN

The bright stars are rudely burning my eyes

And that cherry sunset sky is badly rotting

The moon frowns back in a dulled disguise

When my soul finds life severely disappointing.

~*~

MONDAY: YOU COULD FILL ME IN

I dial the knobs and tune to your station radio

And once upon a time, I heard melodic music

But your airwaves changed into a distorted audio

And now all I hear is a dinning unpleasant static.

~*~

TUESDAY: I’LL BE FINE WITH IT

I shoot my bullet kiss through a small shaky dime

Held between your teeth and trembling fuchsia lips

An inch more, a heart-less, and you might’ve died

But are you glad, my dearest love, that I’ve missed?

~*~

WEDNESDAY: I KNOW HOW TO SWIM

Call my arctic cloudy hopes dangling overhead

But it’s raining storms, a cumulonimbus crying

And I’m left shivering, sneezing, badly drenched

Rendered sick by my own coldest falling optimism.

~*~

THURSDAY: SEND A HURRICANE TO ME

These playground games are no longer fun

The red metal swing set is creaky and rusted

Empty staccato of children shouting as they run

From a happy childhood long past evanescenced.

~*~

FRIDAY: SINKING NEVER FELT SO SWEET

Fade in, fade out, show of just another sfumatic spectre

Blending in the vestiges, blending in the damp colours

Fade in, fade out, fade until I turn into an invisible grey

Waiting for the day I fail to reappear and completely fade away.

~*~

SATURDAY: STUCK IN YOUR UNDERTOW

Bobbing against the deepest aquamarine waters, float, sink, float, sink, float, sink, float

Submerged into an abyssal trench of disconsolence, hanging barely by a splintered boat

Drown, gasp, struggle by the waves, yet in the end I curl into a peaceful ball and sink slowly

And accept the pressure that crushes my weakened lungs as I drift in undertows of melancholy.

~*~

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