THREE FINGERS
He was grey
His skin was ashen
His eyes were dark
No spark nor passion
His teeth were rotten
Green and brown
His hair was burned
And ripped out
Circles under his bloodshot eyes
Crooked nose with scars on the side
Just skin that's grey
And protruding ribcage
He was covered in cuts
Thought he never noticed
Babbling brook, was he
Talking, talking with no sensibility
Only three fingers adorned his hand
He was left alone in spoiled soil and land
After the war he was insane
Talking to himself over and over again
Three little puppets on his hand
One for his daughter, wife, and man
He was the man, though he'd forgotten
His name wasn't remembered
A memory, now rotten
“Daughter! You're home!” He'd scream in joy
He toyed with his puppet
Abrubtly annoyed
“Why won't you answer?” He asked sweetly
“Why won't you talk? Speak to me!”
He bit at the finger
Holding the doll
Old three fingers
Tore it raw
He swallowed his flesh
And the puppet
Poor little Kate
“Oh my sweet muffet!”
He now only had two fingers left
One for himself, and a mother who left
A knock at the door
Sent him spiraling
But it was only a hole
Which he started smiling
Inside lie
The corpse of Marjean
The mother who left
Her husband and baby
He giggled at her dead rotting body
Inviting her in for a reunion party
He dressed her in bags
Hanging her on display
Her bones and muscles
Decaying away
Next to her body
Sat Kate's corpse too
Swinging side to side
Like wind chimes askew
He dressed them up
In their finest wear
Then dined on their flesh
Out of hate, not despair
But he blamed it on the last finger which hung quite limply there
“You,” he gurgled
Through a mouthful of blood
It wasn't the red you'd expect
But a black fountain, like mud
“You destroyed them all,” he shook with a fist.
“Now I'll kill you! You shan't exist!”
With a roar and a cry
He terrorized himself
Tore off his skin
And wore it as a pelt
He bled so black
He left trails of ebony
But little did he know
He was his own enemy
—
My little poem based on a short film called Salad Fingers
—
YOU ARE READING
HeRo (Sⓗort Stⓞrⓘⓔs)
Short Story[Completed ↓] Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be stranded in the jungle? To be hopeless in word where emotions were considered unsafe? How would you feel to know your parents have been hiding a dark secret your entire existence? Thi...
