Fall

he never used a typewriter
yet the tendons in his wrist twitched
like metal typebars, fleet, oily, tapping
awful messages when he was
supposed to be at rest – his eyelids
answered as if scanning for answers
those desolate webpages promising
novel experience – instead mirrored
his loneliness, accentuated the ache
that couldn’t be filled with discount
drugs or the plight of youthful victims
who grew up to frown continually
at the assault from their guardians.
he went to bed twitching, laid on a
cold slab in a cool dark room
tentatively massaged the permanent
bruise where his belt buckle bit
into his belly agreeing with a voice
from a base part of his brain
which told him he was getting
what he deserved, that long nights
of hollow experience without a word
spoken to anyone but himself
was all he had to look forward to until
he finally worked up the courage
to peel his fingers off the edge
to trust himself to gravity’s final solution

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GlenDodge

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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Nadeem Qazilbash
Member

The reader can feel his pain.. that sleepless agony.

wpDiscuz

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