One Wedding Wrong

Don’t they break you when you’re done for in the closet that drowns you in your own heavy sighs?  Drag you to the table tops, cloak you with regret, and drink you till darkness, and it may too be gone tomorrow. May everyone walk away, aching your body and bottle your hair and cradled head in suntan hands, heightening the reach that adorns the blood showered back, chest crossed with warnings and neck bound by the asphyxiating rope of rocks.

“I settle under the bridge between day and dismay,

And I don’t move.

Or I forget to be better.

What happens when it ends?

Do I remain?

Is someplace close to the ache, is it quiet there?

Everything will fall apart.

And underneath the brazen apex, what you see,

I fault and I break.”

The floor you had to walk is gone, and the loss has broken the bands of thoughts in your head, woe in lies and secrets, you won’t survive this. The final look electrifies your soul, clutching your hips with a corrugated cloth that draped the safe touch of self, and you’re quiet as the homeless eye isn’t yours anymore. Tomorrow’s another lie, no man of short hair, or the party of open land.

Published by

Watt

It's all a matter of rust and shine, to serve a distinction between to have and to have not.

43 thoughts on “One Wedding Wrong”

  1. The ache here is of the strength to break, I feel the broken – intense between the day and dismay. It’s immense, dragged to tabletops where it’s too much to bare….

    As a piece of writing, amazing, as for the feeling it evokes, it’s an intense ache. You did it again.

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  2. seems a profound connection between someone and its soul; the soul that learned to listen to any moment of insomnia which belongs to one that looks that’s almost ready to lose its mind; so tight is there for so many unlimited questions… — yet, the game isn’t up; someone is still somebody’s friend; its soul makes it understand

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    1. I haven’t had the chance to have a right one or wrong one. Drawing on another’s experience. I think what builds up to the supposedly happiest day, and shatters at the click of a glass, you’re unready and unsteady, and the ending passes you by, leaving you more…. No, just leaving you…

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      1. It can be painful.
        It can be wonderful.
        But then, what the hell.
        The social need for a state
        sanctioned piece of paper,
        all tied up in a legal
        bow, is at the broken
        heart of the matter 💔

        Liked by 1 person

  6. “Or I forget to be better.” Wow, what a brilliant and packed statement.
    There is so much in here! An understatement of course, I am kind of good at those haha
    It’s late here, but I need to ponder this more.
    Hope you’re well. I haven’t been on WP too much lately.
    🌸

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  11. A potent text, Poet.

    As to technique: I appreciate very much the piling up of descriptive elements as in the first paragraph and in many of your texts. An escalation of the emotion of the piece so that there is no possibility of escaping it.

    I notice the ‘closet’, ‘cloak’, darkness’, ‘bottle’ to close us in and cut off our air before we get to the word ‘asphyxiating rope’. Dazzling even though I would prefer to escape.

    Which then I could not do for the sound of the speaker’s voice. Much more difficult to move away from someone speaking than someone silent. Let alone someone speaking with so much urgency and addressing us, even if rhetorically.

    I very much appreciate that the monologue is itself closeted between two pieces of prose as if hanging there from its rope of stones.

    And I think the final text, a descriptive wrap-up, is on wonderful point as an unsettled conclusion on disturbed ground. But a conclusion, nonetheless and with certain certainties in the very last sentence, even if that sentence is mysterious to me.

    But then all unexpected emotional disturbances do seem to be certain to come again and again and often they are mysterious both in their origin and outcome.

    So I accept that sentence. Yes.

    Excellent piece, Poet. There now……..I’ve told you what you already know.

    Thank you. Sarah

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  12. Not one in particular more than another which was the point of what I wrote. I failed to make myself clear.

    Come to this feast, I can’t choose just one serving because it was the whole I savoured. I don’t want to be tortured in this way.

    Sarah

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      4. I left you a poem on my site the same day as your latest piece.

        The meaning of the poem is that no matter the difficulties of your life – of which the dreary everydayness of every day is one example, (which, of course, is the least of what may hit you as you well know), your poetic skill will go from strength to strength.

        If you so want.

        The reference to shouting in the title of my post.relates to the strong and often cataclysmic imagery you have used often which to my ears is a form of shouting. I am not judging this. Merely saying.

        Sarah

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  13. Hi Watt, I haven’t been reading as much as I was, but I always try to get here to read your beautiful words.
    I don’t believe nothing is truly really over. Even in the breaking there is still a connection that will always be there. I know this and I honor it, because we grow and transform so very much with deep heart experiences. IMHO 😊

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