forfeiture for survival

now here in this place

with blinds drawn,

you have locked out the sun.

i close my ears to the echoes,

of all that there was;

 

a steady fall of innocence.

a potpourri of stone and acid

builds your leavening;

 

stalactites grow from the roof.

Author's Note

I suspect this one may be too obscure for anyone to interpret, but I'd be interested in any thoughts.

As always, all polite/relevant reviews are welcome - including constructive critique, grammar and spelling corrections. Finally, thank you for taking the time to read/leave a review!

Reviews

[Marie Anzalone]

I read this as a voluntary withdrawl from the world, possibly due to drug addiction- that affliction which makes it think it is ok to sit behind closed doors and stare at the celing until stalactites form. I may be comepltely off base, but that is how I see the word choice. I left a situation like that once, and would never go back, which is perhaps why it resonates with me so trongly in that way.

[Poeticadia]

On a personal level, this called to mind the loss of a young life in our community recently... the silence that fell on all of us, the blinds drawn in the afflicted house.

In the last 3 lines I see so many images and possibilities of interpretation. The one that came to mind was that nothing could really soften or lighten what has happened but the 'stone and acid' (like a combination of numb coldness and burning pain) makes some difference... though over time it causes a growth of stalactities (piercing the darkness?) to form in the 'roof' of the mind; the sunless cave of those living.

Or maybe... i'm nowhere close. Either way it's intriguing, it's original, it has a sense of death & growth, it sounds great and i just really like it whatever the story behind it.