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Cerulean

by Anastasia Lyn

Surrounding blue;
Sky bridges of endless light
turning black-red --
Lucifer staring
at me through Church windows weeping
crimson.

Smothered by the fall
head-first into aqua swirls and tunnels.
From heights unknown even lies are lucid.
Once so clear -
flowing into a comfortable color:
faded grey of spent storm-clouds.

Blurred;
yet feelings remain a hazy memory
echoing teasingly in my reason --
whispering me back.

Alive,
Alone.
Caged with practice;
Carved with care.
Blinded by yellow --
everything has an alien quality.
Life interrupts me; I keep coming back for more.
And people wonder why suicide seems salvation.

A fabrication we originate,
Existence: the master of deception.
Believers, we follow heedlessly.
Fragile,
Wretched,
Crushable, so undeniably stupid.

Skin feeling a live sin,
Eating me outside-in.
Someone wants to hear me scream:
the color of what I've seen.

04/21/2012

Posted on 04/22/2012
Copyright © 2026 Anastasia Lyn

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 05/05/12 at 12:24 AM

I do love that opening stanza. A hell of a way to grab the reader's attention.

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