Midnight (Not)Fairytales

Nostalgia {poem #1}

I wrote this for my Creative Writing class last year, when I was feeling nostalgic about home. Now, it is the other way, so I feel like it's a nice moment to post it.

"Quiet, motionless, wrapped in concrete blankets

and my head resting on the soft floor.

The dust cascades, silently, veiling my fleeting memories

and I lie, quiet, motionless, letting maggots and worms infest my brain, devour my soul.

There's no more blood trudging through my rusty veins, there's numbing nostalgia.

There's nothing in my head, just ephemeras, leftovers.

There's nothing, just a girl lying on the floor, remembering forgotten memories.

And I awake, shaking the spiderwebs from the corners of my mind,

making the blankets into crumbles

and letting the cold air sweep the corners of my abandoned psyche.

And for one more day, the machine works,

until the night falls,

like wet, heavy velvet

and I lie, quiet, motionless, wrapped in concrete blankets."