I Am Nothing and No One – Part Two

Laughter rains through the air

Like the torrential downpour a thirsty jungle must feel

Heads are thrown back in arcs of pure delight

A hand or two comes down on the table

Sharp, quick snapping sounds echo through the carpetless room

My lips curl upward, fighting gravity a millimeter at a time

I bare my teeth and laughter escapes from deep within

This practiced gesture, this actor’s gimmick is one I’ve done before

The woman inside runs her claws along my skull

They’re laughing at you, she says

With such lack of feeling that I cough and my laughter dies

A word is said, a jab is served and the thunder of laughter roars on

This jungle has turned cold

The rain soaks deep into my essence

The woman’s fingers curl around my throat

As the chilling rain drops grow larger, beat down harder

I study the group

Looking for a hint of recognition

Someone please see through this practiced smile

This facade I’ve donned

Blood does not create links of this nature

Her fingers tighten and my world is lost in darkness

Her voice is colder than the ice now falling from the sky

You are nothing and no one

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I Am Nothing and No One – Part One

The leaves whisper their unknown language to each other

As I lie in bed, eyes closed, fists clenched.

The crickets sing their happy summertime song

I listen, alone and on edge

The moon reflects the sun’s yellow light from its silver surface

As I pinch my eyes tighter, bite down hard on my lower lip

The highschool marching band lifts their notes heavenward

And they dance the long distance along the waves and into my window

I wrap the pillow around my head to block out the sound

In the darkness behind my eyes

In the tightness of my fists

In the quiet of my room

I can’t escape my mind

I can’t escape the woman inside

She is hollow, numb, lifeless

She holds no mercy, sings no songs

She lights no torch nor whispers in the dark

She has no fear, she feels no pain

She is ruthless

The lion shreds its prey, limb is twisted, bone is splintered

The lion cares not that the fawn’s mother watches from the tree line

It cares not that the fawn is still crying out, still thinking it can be rescued

It only wants to feast

To bury its teeth in the soft flesh of its downed prey

To feel the warm blood swirl along its coarse tongue and down its thirsty throat

The trees have stilled their ancient tongues

The crickets song has ceased

The silvery moon has disappeared

The marching band has faded

I am nothing and no one.

This is the first of a series I am going to be doing. It may only be one more poem or it may be a couple, but I would love feedback if you’re willing to offer it.

I want to develop my poetry more as a side project during some downtime or when I need to free up my mind for ideas for my novel. Please feel free to comment and let me know what I need to work on.