50. Catharsis.

Very much a catharsis in reality this one, it was a final working out of demons from more than one period in life. Like a composite exercise in emotional exorcism. Lets face it, working out such things is better done on a page where the pixels can be subjected to any number of vengeful outpourings without physical risk to anyone.

50. Catharsis.

You broke my heart between your legs,
And watched it die between the sheets,
I broke your neck between my hands,
But not before your lips turned blue,

As I saw your eyes call then fall,
I saw your death come to life,
Welcome now Dark traveller,
Now your wooden box is filled,

See how clean and tidy I am,
You could take her now unwrapped,
Although a heart was punctured,
Not a drop of blood was spilt,

Bang bang goes the hammer,
Thud thud go the nails,
Squeek squeek goes the wood,
Wash wash go the hands,

Dig dig go the shovels
Slip slide go the ropes,
Scrape scrape go the sides,
Wash wash go the hands,

Wash wash go the hands,
Scrub scrub goes the skin,
Flay fillet goes the flesh,
And rattle go the bones.

(c) Jim Laing 2014.


About Jim Laing

The Buddha said there were four kinds of people. Those who run from dark to dark, those who run from light to dark, those who run from dark to light and those who run from light to light. From a life going from dark to dark to having a few years running from dark to light, with scuffed hands and knees from sometimes falling, I may be getting the hang of it now. How it began is not now how it is, I need a quiet space, After the noise of the day, So I take sanctuary in the creativity, And my soul feeds, On sometimes dark, Sometimes light fantasy, And I dare like many to work, But stay up off my knees, To dream, perchance to suffer, But always still to dream. Here are things mostly lyrical and poetic, with nonsense sometimes, reviews and personal musings. The coffees hot and always black. The words not necessarily so.
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