trying to squeeze though the screen
forcing my miniscule molecules
through the sharp edged gaps in the atoms
memories first
flesh afterwards
like they used to say
with the dramatic music of thumping basses and screeching flutes
women and children first.
women and children first.
as though they were being brave.
the cowards.
to slide into easy oblivion
and leave the rest toiling
with the face of your grinning martyrdom ever before them.
as though piercing these memories through
needle through thread
string your eyes together
will keep this skin and blood healthy
and i'm knitting myself a safety net
speading it warm across my lap
as if it were alive
twisting and knotting the things together
the things that used to hold me together
as if -if i pull it tight enough
it will cover me
swallow up all this discordant darkness
in its glistening web
and will slowly harden over these broken crevices
leaving me a strong and silent shell
unbreakable
and if you hold me close you can hear the voices
of all those grinning martyrs
who sank beneath the sea and wouldn't stay
but rose to hover before the faces of the women and children
who were saved. they were saved they say.
they caught me today
trying to fit through the window
they scolded me. like a small child
and pointed how i left smudges on the glass
on the bulletproof glass
3 comments:
like i said...brilliant ending and i very much liked the bits about 'grinning martydom'....i have now commented
;)
that whole bit with the women and children first,
where death is the easy way out
for cowards
..
i like that. a lot.
Very interesting perspective. Makes me think of that riddle/joke "Where do they bury the survivors?"
"Courage" isnt always that courageous huh?
Chop jang leuy
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