Madness

Here the madness was divided up equally, and there was nothing leftover for us to have our own lunatic. -House of the Spirit

My sister filled the hole in my chest with a putty,

made of spit, feathers, brown edged leaves.

She packed it in creases trapping voices slithering

through cracks. She pressed her slender fingers

against hard edged bone, shaping the stuffing

until I was solid again.

Now my sister lays under a blanket

of washed red dirt and unpicked flowers.

Her lifeline hewed into marble.

Carving wrinkles into my face

I lay over her and listen for her voice.

I claw at the clay so carefully enveloping

my hollow. Searching for her

fingerprint, caught laughter, forgotten word.

I empty myself.

Curled on dying grass, whispers

return. I dream of fire, jasmine,

blue eyes washing over sticky lashes.

I stuff myself with feathers caught in empty limbs,

crushed leaves, and stolen lipstick.

Nothing fills me.

Reviews

[Pete]

This is so many things. First of all its beautifully written. It is also longing, despairing, & mournful. You've captured madness here as a flood of strong emotional confusion. Very descriptive. Well done.

[CourtniRenee]

I'm really glad you were able to pick up on the emotions! I was worried that all the descriptive language would take away from what I intended. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and review!