Yellow drapes

Silence like the yellow tarps      drapes around a Buddhist funeral. Beyond lies incense and wilting carnations.

silence bred by hate can only be escaped 

By the removal of one’s physical presence

Either ‘I’m going to leave you now’ or 

      Murder, like the burning of paper wives, you still after your fucking virgins. The silence

can never break,

breaks you instead. Like 

      a howling soldier crawls through mustard gas. Sky cries.

Wet funeral.

Yellow bus seats on the way to your widow, family of the deceased.

god I hated you.

Advertisements

Author: naomi

Student, likes learning about foreign cultures, shall not divulge anymore so my identity is not exposed!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s