Air

Air
Heavy Breaths of Purified air
Dessert
Weight
Wait
Are you hungry
No;

Want for the Sweet
Want for the unneeded
Want for what shouldn’t be had
Want for the thungs I love most
Want for the thing I despise most;

I must try
I rise
A dash from my quarters
I glide to the kitchen
Looking in the Fridge
I see what I want;

Glutton
I reach for my want
Bring it to my lips
A light touch
Heavy breaths of purified air;

Put it back
And reach below
The wise choice
The Melon is seen
The wise choice to make;

A piece is grasped
Brought to my lips
A light touch
I sink my teeth in the cold flesh
I drink the blood;

Another piece is sacrificed
I am lost
Piece after piece
Bite after bite
I cannot look back;

Far too late after
The thought is to stop
Though the need is to continue
My fingers are frozen
As is a metallic mouth;

A container is closed
I run
Run from the monsters
I run to my quarters
Heavy breaths of Purified air.

Comments & reviews · 3
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Bravo!

I really liked this, and even if the title didn't say so, I could totally tell that it was from a personal experience (even if it wasn't.) All of the metaphors (and the similies, if there were any, but I don't think there were) were very clear as to what you were talking about.

The only thing wrong I found was:

Want for the thungs I love most

It should be things. Probably just a typo, but still.

Very good job!

User avatar
lilchoma
Comment

I really love this poem, mostly becuase it sounds exactly like myself. I can totally relate to this kind of experience, and you just put it into a bunch of perfect words. So thanks, I really enjoyed this poem.



Maybe what most people wanted wasn't immortality and fame, but the reassurance that their existence had meant something. No matter how long... or how brief. Maybe being eternal meant becoming a story worth telling.
— Roshani Chokshi, Aru Shah and the Nectar of Immortality