World
sleeps, almost silent now
but
for the steady hum of city lights,
the
echoing of footfalls of the running man
as he
races through the city streets,
adrenaline
pumped,
he
rushes, he rushes.
He
has ghosts here
that
shadow him through each and every day
through
each and every night, haunt his very being,
spark
adrenaline flight,
heart
pounding as he flees his awful fears,
and
in terror as he runs away;
he
rushes, he rushes.
He
wishes she hadn’t been like that,
hadn’t
made him want her oh so very much,
hadn’t
sucked him in then spat him out
‘til
there was nothing left but miserable.
He
had never known he could think like that
be
like that plan like that act like that,
revenge
had been oh so bittersweet,
the
thrill of when the knife went in
countered
with ache the deep regret
of
robbing life of one he once loved so dear,
the
rue of watching blood spill out,
pooling
neath her lifeless body.
He
had left her there, litter in a city street,
she
decomposing neath unseeing eyes,
back
alley dead, a discarded ready meal for gnawing rats,
a
bounty there for fox for dog for feral cats,
for gulls
and multitudia of insecta.
The
city has devoured her,
she
has now become the city,
has
him in her grip, his every thought is full of her,
she
resides in him,
hides ‘neath his paper-thin fragility,
pouncing
out at will.
He
wonders whether he should confess,
whether
this would rid the guilt,
whether
a certain kind of peace would come.
‘Til
then, ‘til decision made,
fear
guilt adrenaline sparked,
he rushes,
he rushes,
he
rushes to escape himself.
Anna
:o]
Sumana’s
prompt (cheers Sumana) at Poets United, of City, reminded me of a long forgotten draft of
city rough sleepers who exist in our cities.
But a trawl through documents found nothing, so I guess I must have deleted
it when the PC told me You Are Running Out Of Space! So I decided to pull on (my own) memory, but my words
morphed into something else. Where it
came from, I do not know.
Image: Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Author: Altoona Police
Department/Medical Examiner
15 comments:
Sadness between each word.
Sad, but painful reality. In Toronto, the police are digging up the grisly remains of a mass murderer in the gay community.
OMG...That's a very grim scene indeed and speaks of the city character. So very sad. The lines reminded me of Tom Jones' Delilah, one of my favorite songs.
Yikes! "He had left her there, litter in a city street,
she decomposing neath unseeing eyes . . . ." And blood and gore in a horror story quite well done! I particularly like that she becomes the city and devours him still--a just revenge for his crime. Reminds me of Poe's "Tell-tale heart." I don't feel sorry for him in the least. Henceforth, I shall fear night runners in city streets.
That is an insightful image, the runner running to escape himself. An aspect of those dark city streets and back alleys - the ones we try to avoid.
I saw this scene like a film as I read it, Anna. Effective and a total sucker punch.
The third stanza is the most terrifying to me, that sort of discovery about oneself has to leave a person unmade. If one is a murderous monster and one knows it, one deals with life accordingly. But when one never knew...
...well, I don't even want to wonder about what he'll do next, to escape himself.
You have painted an intense and graphic scene so well. A story that I would love to hear more of. Amazing writing Anna!!
Another body for the city to devour. I love the breathlessness of him running
to escape himself- a futile attempt.
I thoroughly enjoyed the read, sad and gruesome though it was. Last year I was walking down a less used street in my city and there was a bundled up body on the pavement with even the face
covered. No one stopped to check the person...and I am sorry to say not even me!
He has ghosts here
that shadow him through each and every day
through each and every night, haunt his very being,
It is frightening in a city inhabited by the layabouts and homeless. One is forever shadowed by eerie feelings
Hank
Oh my god, this is captivating in its eeriness and how you make the reader feel the haunted psyche.
You never know the backstories of all the blank faces and sad eyes that pass you by in the city... some horrible perhaps, some just tragic.
Within your morbid dsrk chant, i fi d these lines intriguing
"The city has devoured her,
she has now become the city,"
Thanks for dropping by my blog Anna
Much🎀
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