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Tuesday, 6 September 2016

Seasons of Violence (day 38 of 365)

Welcome to day 38 of the 365 day poem challenge. 

Word of the day anathema meaning   
"something or someone that one vehemently dislikes."

Seasons of Violence 

He was anathema to her
He was anaesthetic all at the same time
The dull mechanical punch of his
Relentless drilling words 
Hammering her to numbness

Sitting on a train minding my own business
"Dog" "cunt" "fuckwit"
Pounding words eviscerate
The senses 

Adjectives fail
There is an ache
And there is purple and blue
There is yellow also
There is green and black
This is black, dark black

Jogging minding my own business
My feet clattering on the cobbles
Then slam! 
Me into wordlessness
The hair stinks blood
The cobbles are so near now
Just a knuckle graze away
Not even

The sky is so bland today
It is so far away
It is so untouched 
It is untouchable
My arms are my wings:
"Cradle me clouds
Cradle my vast aching limbs
Fold me deep into the sky
Where I might shrivel and hide 
Forever!"

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