Clove.

On and on
It glistens and gleams along the drain
Night so foggy, you can’t see the trees before you
They twist menacingly but you’re unaware.
Sky as white, as pure as my love for you
It’s just one more.
Deep sleep. Waking up choking
Because you forgot to breathe

Down to my
Fingertips, stained like cyan watercolour.
Pellets of rain pelt us, as the winters morn
Spreads itself
On and on, to the eighth month I was born.
Just a little, put myself at ease.
One more orange bottle, tranquil, release
What do you say?

Just one more
Rolling through my innards. Sink into me.
En route towards my brain, a ship in the blood
Sails north.
On and on, through the battering wind
Just one pinch of the stuff, doctor.
From my very toes to my torso, I hold tension.
Anvil bound to my chest

--

--

Drug-induced psychosis

Who is the shadow man in the bucket hat
He watches me in the confines of my house
Seldom he moves but he follows me around
With eyes that stick out of his head
Like an insect

Who is this young child who visits me often?
She doesn’t disappear as such — but fades
She is no longer there. She called me mother
More than once she did, and me? Childless
Brown haired girl

Why are my friends trying to assassinate me?
And why, the postman stalks me daily!
My thoughts aren’t my own. Implanted.
The food is not edible. It is poisonous
I am God

--

--

He stood before me, eyes like needles

The water evaporating off him, slick as a beetle.

What have you done? Why is it so?

Opened his mouth, what he said? I don’t know

– — –

I listened all night long for his breath,

My hand on his heart. His side I never left.

What have you done? Smack? As before?

His silence answered me. Breathing no more

--

--

Clove.

Clove.

Hi! I’m Clove, I’m 20 years old, I live in Ireland. My page contains everything from personal essays, to short stories to poetry. Nice to meet you :)