Abysmal Ramblings

Updated: Nov 7, 2019


A yellow submarine with four wheels | Artwork by Midori Friedbauer

An abyss exists, deep and wide A crater left behind I shouted into the darkness

Thought I'd hear welcome silence But a response kept me up at night

Something simple, none too wise I looked into his eyes I used to love blue, but the abyss swallowed that too Like I swallowed liquor on summer nights

Barefoot across green, soft knives

The whispers of a predator chasing not far behind The abyss is a chasm a mirror of what you failed to leave behind

A hole, deep inside A cliche' of course, but none too wise,  I looked into your eyes

My cat died,  but she wasn't really mine She always loved my father more She had golden eyes They don't see anymore, of course But I can see them in my mind

They watched me fearfully As I stepped aside I wondered, "who hurt you?" But the abyss swallowed her too

Now the response,  akin to, "I once loved you." but that was a lie, of course because an echo is a lie

I cannot switch course,  the abyss is rushing past white water rafting I have a slight grasp of a yellow submarine with four tires

1970s charm won't get you very far but a tank of gas can last just long enough to start fires And you set me on fire

A cool nebula of iron collapsed, atop my soft flesh He gave me warmth and  promises of an imaginary past

I collapsed, where fingers traced  scars that were carved with a steak knife  A winter night, alone with fresh blood puffs of warm carbon dioxide and nicotine

I forgot how to move that night when it was too hot to breathe He found himself on top of me Silver tongue inside of me eating away at my sanity

Now the abyss screams The abyss always gets what she wants she devoured the color blue and yellow, and green, threatening to eat me too

Instead she ate my schizophrenic cat Pity her ravenous appetite dodged me But poets are a stack of cats dead inside, angsty that might just be me

The abyss does not care, of course interstellar sustenance the stars all die, feeding the ISM so the abyss can create chaos again

The abyss is not chaos that title belongs to me

Call me mayhem,  for when I shout into the abyss I do not hear silence, nor fallacious echoes ringing through galaxies where the sound of a death rattle moves at the speed of light When I shout into the abyss there will no longer be silence. 

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