Pseudopsychosis.

Deep in my heart
sunshine for early
longing none more
than the kneel before the stars
angry in their tarmacs 
of light,
closer to the 
sow of blood
ravished red,
dead, solely, after the years,
and I’ll 
be alone by the shell of 
betrayal, stirred by leaf
on mid-summer 
on the garret, perched windows
that drifts and drifts,
rolled on a dead poet,
and flown and sowed
by the stitch, my squill,
of dark vanishing whisper.
the sun struck
the smoke in the stars
see them recede
into the still red ravished 
tomb of wind, flowers upturned,
as we eat capers;
speechless as the animal bones
hunted in the ground;
I put on the fire, old, remembered, 
bewitched as the bars
alone seeped into lavender sea
unto my heart.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

First appeared in Variant Lit’s Second Chance Anthology in mid 2020.

When I wrote this poem, I believe it was sometime in early 2020. I was reading some of Leonard Cohen’s poetry and I sought after his style in ways of honesty, bluntness, and conversational demeanor in his writing. He didn’t shy away from the details in his poems, and that alone intrigued me very much. This poem centralizes depression, the narrator longing for more than the predisposed patterns that they’ve grown into. But as well, it symbolizes major depression with references of being tired of life, and then embracing the elements they’ve known from what feels like the start.

I hope you could enjoy this piece, and as always, I welcome and appreciate your thoughts and feedback.