A QUICK LOOK…
A quick look at my life,
a very quick look.
I freeze myself
and take it out of myself,
like the bunch of papers.
I read each papers letter by letter
word by word.
I do it.
As I said ‘quicker’,
I don’t look all of it.
I give it a vague read,
as if the final editor does
for manuscripts.
Because you know,
those are legendaries,
meant to be carved on the real papers
in volumes.
Some words in particular when
I barely look,
pins my heart deeper and harder.
Even Though it feels like dropping
few drops of blood,
the agonizing dolor it brings is unremitting.
I read,
and I read
I feel as if this reading is a loophole
where reading repeats over the period of time
again and again.
I wish to cease it by adding a full-stop or by assuming it’s ‘The End’.
But I can’t.
All I ever get into is
the doom- infinitely rising
its intensity darker and thicker.
I can’t take it.
I wish not to recall all of it
in a single moment.
I feel as if I heard the heartbeat
of Slivia Plath raging in literical words.
Or the words I read relates Blake’s poetry on poison tree?
Is the Apple bore as the symbol of hatred and anger?
Who did grow it for me?
Am I someone’s foe?
Did I eat it?
Is this the reason why I’m dead in terms of living but barely existing as a human entity?
As the time moves,
as it fleets slower,
the reading turns to searching.
I set my search for new words,
words that sound good unlike all the chaos I had been reading.
At the end,
I’m loser again.
I didn’t find one.
Maybe this is how it is meant to be.
All those papers could be meant to be a silent graveyard in which slow breezes carry grieve music all around.
Maybe my song is just blue-filled.
