What of it?

What of it
what of it
what of this
shining thing of need,
a bloody swelling,
some balloon
full of a breatheable blood —
if you take a mouthful,
your voice will
a high pitched scream,
but like every other moment,
every other incident,
it is a scream
that they cannot hear,
that only we can hear.

We know the language;
we know the steps,
the missing stairs.

We know how easy it is
to be forgotten.

We know what it is to know.

No tags for this post.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Fiction. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to What of it?

  1. Trent Lewin says:

    I ain’t forgetting you. Raise your voice, Jones. Nice and loud.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.