Abyssal Hollow

I turned the pages.. ruminating on the many faceless apparitions..
some archaic.. some predominant..
They were faceless..yet their eyes bore into me
stripping me naked of cause..

They smelled me...they took a deep breath and filled themselves with my aroma..
a potpourri of love, lust, want, desire, need..
they all mean the same,
yet they were different..

Some kissed my lips...sucked my soul.. some kissed the tears away..
some bit me until they drew blood..
I flinched.. I cried..
I wailed in unremitting pain..

They clawed me with their barbarous talons dipped in acids
so my marks remained.. reminding me everyday... my usage , my role in their pleasure..not mine.. never mine..
I wish I can cross the rubicon...

They fooled me with their powers..subservient I am to become.. drowning my obsequious self in their words, in their promises, in their complaisance..
It was a ruse masquerading as a gallant inveigle..
I fell prey to the adulation...

My innards were turned to slush, my heart minced..
my soul battered.. my body drained..
filling themselves to the brim, the entities left one by one..
I wished them away..

Now I am just a hole...An Abyssal Hollow..
I closed the book..for it had blank pages ever since.. 

Reviews

This piece left me dangling in the corner with a blank stare on the monitor. It opened something deep inside that was never thought of.

I love the smell of new ideas in the morning.

And the reflection I got here, I am astounded. It was wonderful.

Good form, well painted imagery and well chosen words, well imparted message.

A good piece

[Rick Puetter]

Dear JoSamarthi,

Wow! I really liked this. So clearly and brilliantly put. I could feel the "Hollow" made by all the users, inticing your into their game for their pleasure and never yours. I like the way you have these people sizing you up, circling you, waiting for the opportune moment, their first recognition of a weakness that they can exploit. My! You size this situation up so nicely: "They fooled me with their powers", but the real zinger, and perhaps women feel this more keenly since this is a common expectation of men, is: "..subservient I am to become". Wow, the bite and the implied disrespect. Yes, "It was a ruse masquerading as a gallant inveigle", and you "fell prey to the adulation".

Excellent! Top marks!

Very best regards,

Rick

[fireblossom]

This poem will come through on many levels...its what we bring to the picture. I brought my past which made this a poem about being used for others whims.

Brilliant.

Jan