Melancholia.
Aug 1, 2022
Poetry prompt № 5.
…Melancholia
in the driver’s seat
every night…
Just like you
that frosted Dec. night
of your accident.
& that night you,
friend & brother,
devoured both barrels
of the feral, metallic
death machine.
(putting that beautiful mind through a thresher of brain matter and bone.)
Is there justice in all of creation?
Or only nihilism? Filling your lungs slowly with spiritual black tar.
Or is the buzzing of
the void
Eternal?
The Fate cutting the thread of life is a rabid leviathan with 1,000 heads
and fangs that do their damndest to break you;
to send you to a deeper level of hell with It.
It is a mad Deity,
blind and sadistic,
for taking you both
— who had so much more to offer
this world than I ever will or could.
