An Everlasting Weed

A poem about split personalities & burying your dead: be it a lost friend or memories of the past.

Black days yield hail to black eyes,

drenched in the woman's summer skin,

we put her on a pedestal to share

what our creation came to be, only

for the masses to watch as hopes

and the visceral ground underneath 

give way to the weight of her 

greed--exposes her for the same

fiend with which she lays.

Washed up, sees her guilt

become a seed, an everlasting weed

for you to chop shears at when we're 

near and she struggles as it continues to sprout.

We don't intend to flatter her,

this hole is for a lost friend,

for the hassle of burying such things is not worth the cost--

where vacant spaces for her box lie near towering trees,

cut through miles of roots only to throw dirt on that

which has already been buried--

only for rainy days to seep through and

produce a foul stench,

memories of childish faces on a bench,

pictures, and videos with the intention to document--

but the crowds won't weep at your descent.

God, that face still haunts us like the worst dream never could.

Author's Note

The day my turtle died, I made the somewhat absent-minded decision to dig near a tree and ended up having to cut through LOTS of roots. However he isn't the main subject of this poem. Rather, it's about how your words can build someone up to be something they're not: a sort of Frankenstein if you will. A creation of all of your compliments and affection. One day that creation may just fall out from under you and leave you with only a box of memories. Yet, you can't bury the box, for fear that when it becomes wet with the rain it'll produce a foul smell that will remind you evermore. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it.

Reviews

[E.V. Black]

Absolutely sad and a bit morbid too. Burying the past? Burying the dead? Quite a bit creepy there. Although, I didn't mind it one bit. I LOVE creepy stuff, and this made me shiver in my skin. I'm sure that probably wasn't the main intent, but that's the affect it had on me. I think it's a little confusing around the beginning about talking about burying the dead and the past. You should word it more clearer. I wouldn't have known what you were talking about without the author's note or your description right under the title.

Reading it the second time around, it's much easier to understand. I think it just needs to be absorbed into the psyche a bit. I really like how you ended it with that one phrase at the conclusion.