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howling.

poem

By Ruby RedPublished 6 months ago β€’ 2 min read
howling.
Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

Surprise attacks

The fox's claws are halfway lodged through my throat

Unclenching the muscles won't help now

Nor will removing the palms pressed to where my Adam's Apple would be

But its friendly bob would do nothing to stop the relentless blood

From each half-moon piercing the skin.

I don't know how to say what I'm thinking right now

The imagining of the chair connecting with the windowsill

The glass raining down on me,

Diamonds, my mind says

As a way to comfort me as I rage against

Everything my blood tells me to do,

Where I want to go

Yet at home,

There's the desire to punish,

Release the unspoken burdens I carry in the view of all around me

And explode from the calmness of safety;

The unconditionality of love:

The only thing I wish I could find somewhere more frequented than the home;

Somewhere more intimate than inside my own soul.

I wanted it to be easier now that I've spoken it out loud.

Now that someone else sees me, too.

Oh, how I wish the pretty little world would return and older now, I could breathe in and out every hint of toxic helium

Until the blissful laughter killed me.

I'm stuck with the fox's half-moon attacks,

Find the panic rising because this is what I brought to myself

When I let the world foster the fox

Into a miserable thing once a month

Who will never look outside of the box

They kept it trapped in.

Invisible boxes, I find

Are the most satisfying to claw and pace around

Because although familiar, the blood turns to cold, cold, fire

And routinely

They disassociate until you have exhausted yourself.

Begin; again.

Find the dark, sing to it.

Enjoy the loneliness because it has blanketed the diamonds

Swallow down the vomit of how far you've come

And accept their scowls as compliments

To the desire to have to destroy yourself

In order to be seen by them.

Maybe, then they'll let you in on their little secret -

That the dark touches them too,

But they're far better at hiding it because they have never kn0wn it as deep

And drowning,

clawing

and burdening as me.

Free VerseheartbreakMental Healthsad poetrysocial commentaryStream of Consciousnessslam poetry

About the Creator

Ruby Red

Heya friend, I'm Red!

I write poetry, so subscribe for a hint of vulnerability, some honesty and the occasional glimpse behind my mask 🌱

Taking a break from Vocal; focusing on my anthology πŸ«ΆπŸ’–

AI is not art.

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