The bloody moon was submerged in the cauldron of tears,
With a choking reality of good-byes that neither ended nor began.
Perspiration harvested anxiety,
And illusions became mirrors of fears.
Deep purple plastic beads swirled dizzyingly and continuously,
Making a thousand revolutions per second around that one cryptic silver star
In the hopeless nothingness.
Insanity?

Footsteps became echoes imprinted on dead
Paper roses and fragmented glass figurines.
Dusty cobwebs hung like the forbidden cold arms of the wind,
While mismatched colored cats purred incessantly away,
With soft broken pitches like clanging missing keys on a piano.
Amnesia?

Now with grayness.
The sunsets burned bitter cold blue under rigid black mountains,
And then crashed into the underworld.
Colors overlapped in the aftermath,
Becoming redundant, straining the eyes.
Breathless and restless.
Running away, speeding up, panting painfully. Why?

Pine-scented candles lashed out flames of golden leaves,
And produced the bony twigs of branches from the wicks.
Laughter is then dyed violet-black
And is replaced by mischievous, toothy grins for the morbid dark rituals.

Stiffen and numb, for all emotions are suppressed.
Yesteryear’s treasured photographs are torched savagely,
With no mercy, no regret.

Died from within.
Emptiness about.

With you,
You’ve taken away my soul.

© Kathy Nguyen, 2003