I feel these memories
scratching
at the back
of my neck
they feel like mine
but aren’t
fragments of a childhood
they’re on the other side
of television static
blurring the line between me
and not me
-Zero
This past Christmas Eve marked fifteen years since I first started this blog in the dead of night, in that silence that preceded the childhood excitement of Christmas. I would not advise going back to those earlier posts, made by a teenager filled with angst and all sorts of feelings. Flames know that it is painful for me to look back at them, but its archival nature stops me from deleting everything.
Back in the earlier days, it was not unheard of for me to post multiple times in a day. Everything I typed up seemed to find its way on here almost immediately, or so it seemed. Over the years, I've gotten more selective with what I post to the internet and have pulled my attention elsewhere, leading to the all-time low of a single post last year.
Rest assured, I am still writing, though not as much poetry as I used to. I've questioned a number of times whether this blog is worth keeping going, or if it is time to close it down and move on. What purpose does it serve? Why do I insist on screaming into the void like this? Is it something that is just for me, some attempt at garnering attention, or do I do it for others?
The answers to these have changed over the years, bouncing around as dreams of grandeur fade away and I see a thousand other writers screaming in a similar fashion. But at no point have I managed to truly give up on it, and I don't intend on doing so now. After all these years, it's become a way to quantify what I've done - that I am truly still engaging with this passion of mine. It's become a way to connect with others on the odd occasion. A way to publicly state goals that, as a result, feel binding.
All that to say, this year I am committing to at least one post each month. The content of them may vary as I see fit (though I won't allow posts that serve only to make an excuse for why I haven't posted), but they'll be there.
Here's to another year of exploration and beauty, despite it all! Until next time,
-Zero
Heartbreak coils around him
those scarlet scales shimmering in the dark
that familiar serpent with gouged out eyes
tightening its grip, he exposes his neck
heartbreak unwinds its spiralling jaw
revealing rows of blunt teeth, punctuated
by four long folding hollow fangs
that secrete foggy memories of her with every bite.
He collapses into the mess of his bed
the venom spreads, replacing dopamine with pain.
Blood slips out from him as the snake pauses,
only for a moment – it will never be sated,
the serpent will coil, constrict, and grow
until its prey lay still, no love left to give -
or until he realizes he can starve it
by uncoiling his fingers from the neck of the past,
let it fall into the floor and disappear
her along with it.
-Zero
A thick fog covers the city,
brought by a frozen rain never fallen.
from the cemetery on the hill, I look out
at buildings erected, tombstones for the living.
No matter how much we dress them up,
decorate them with wreaths and Christmas lights,
still they’ll be monuments to what we’ve lost:
friends and family, faded or buried.
In this thick December fog, I wander,
floating between now and then,
a ghost haunting the memories illuminated
by the fading lights of the last Christmas.
-Zero
