Poem: The Jar

The Jar

The sound of your voice
Breathing emotions
As if a rope were placed around your throat
Stiffed, hard veins,
your blood is thick and has trouble moving
But your heart is still resisting
Reaching through memories and fake personas
I wish you could laugh again without contempt
A clear laugh, loud and warm
I wish I could offer you my hand as a way to start over and discuss the world and the way to change it
Knocking the door to an empty room
You are still at that crumbling atrium entertaining ghosts and made up stories
And the waves always moving
And the wind constantly blowing
And my mind coming back to teach me lessons that I tend to forget
The eco revolts around your feet and goes all the way to your ears
โ€” a sound coming from your head
โ€” long-distance music
โ€” a tale recited so many times that it became a truth

I hope you can laugh again with honesty
Feeling the seeds going through your toes, climbing and wrapping your elbows to bloom into your real soul
But the waves are always moving
Like you and me, on different paths
Before I go, I need to ask you
To close that book that I gave you once
Because it is dusty and full of lies
The atrium is falling apart
Can you hear how it settles into the ground?
My mind is coming back to teach me this lesson
And the wind is still blowing
So it is my heart
Endlessly seeing you and pumping blood
To fill that jar at the top of the shelf
decorated with seashells and your eyes floating inside it

Published by Cherry Adam

Moody experimentalist. Hypersensitive & Noir moments Poetry, Essays & Sound Experimentation Freelance Music Journalist

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