Alone in the Tower from Andrea Lambert

Andrea Lambert is a queer writer, artist and filmmaker with Schizoaffective Disorder. She lives in Nevada with her four cats. Site: andreaklambert.com

Alone in the Tower

        I live in a castle in the sky. The House of the Rising Sun. No men are serviced here. I only live out my days alone. In an ivory tower. My moon-colored bob too short, to let down. 

	I am not interested in men. Only a woman. Who is dead. I still wear her wedding ring. Diamonds on my hand. I am alone in grief.

	Once we ate strawberries. Wasabi peas mixed with kisses. She. My domestic partner. My wife. Taken too young at twenty-seven. By her own hand. She took all of my psych meds. Left me alone. It is no wonder I am poisoned. For further love. My heart shattered.

	That is what comes after being widowed, correct? I wait to die. Between these walls. Like a queer Miss Havisham. When’s the special day? Death is always a surprise. I will wait.

	When my ghost wife comes. In her black Louis Verdad wedding gown. Black veiled hat. To carry me away. I shall go willingly. Peacefully. For only then will I be free. Of this worm like meat tube. I must feed and toilet. All for naught. I attend to the needs of the body. Because I must go on. 

	I am too cowardly to hasten to process. Of waiting. For death. I lie in stasis. In wait. In this locked tower. No air comes in. Only bursts of electricity. Flaming sparks. Will explode.

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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