(My novel The Half Paper Moon)
He is dead
Dead dead dead
The man is dead
I am dead
Frozen in pomegranate panic
Frozen in death that lives onward in sinew that stews
In his arms, I linger with the notion of my death
The layers that choke
The happiness I ground into fine waste
I am that waste
As I slipped into the air-tight room of death
The sphere of Hell’s wrath fell down upon my sinful head
I was both Persephone and Hades
Chained to a specific time
But my sweetheart brings me to spring
He revives me
The one I found gave me fresh water
No liquid death
I remember as I wept, stuffing my face with old, stale snacks
The fake orange fine print cataloging my starvation
I tap-danced a frantic beat of my mother with her heels
Dropped by a few smarts
That crawled into my throat like a muscle memory
I was a child and I was killed
The man I became
Dead dead dead
And I find myself swimming in living droughts of death
Kissing my lover in a blush of midnight black
Grieving over the twisted guts of orange.
No moon because I shrouded it in a curtain of
A chalice containing
Poison I consumed with gusto
That read like a commercial jingle
Full of dead rats I built in my head.
About the Creator
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
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More stories from Melissa Ingoldsby and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶3 days ago in Petlife
Comments (5)
This is wild. Love how descriptive it is. The pomegranate panic, and the twisted guts of orange are particularly horrifying visuals. Really well done.
I don't know if you've ever played the game "Hades", but their take on the Hades/Persephone mythos was comprehensive and far more congenial to the poor God of the Underworld, who, we must admit, got the short end of the stick when drawing lots with his brothers! I agree with Dharrsheena, "Pomegranate Panic" is both an excellent use of illiteration and imagery!
I haven't a clue what this is about, Melissa, yet I somehow identify with it. How strange is that?
Gosh this was so intense! I freaking loved it so much! Pomegranate panic was my favourite!
This was excellent. And I find myself swimming in living droughts of death…wow