A Bent Photo With a Red Moon Featured by David L O’Nan (from New Disease Streets)

I want the eclipsing sky
To polaroid my demise
On the suicide beach
Where they buried the slithering waves
Full of secrets,
They are lost

We failed and became only lust
Not love
As we promised ourselves
Flew kites in the storms
And ran like hyperactive children
Fondling through the sands
As the devil watches with rapture

We built bonfires with the driftwood
Smoked grass and watched the seagulls collapse into –
An evening snore
We ate and drank and joked about unknown mysteries You tried to lift my drunken body
And tickled my sides ‘til I was sick.

It was only a night
That depression tries erasing
All the false love promises
That the red moon sweeps in and erases
With its scarlet filled tease

And you know I travel there every year
And a bipolar night,
He can swim through all the tides
All alone
Years of confusion
Women and wine
As my death awaits
The photo is bending
The romantic moon drowned
With a floating bottle
With meaningless hearts drawn on the seashells.

photo by Kelly Sikkema (unsplash)

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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