This poem was originally published by me in the Medium publication The Brain Is A Noodle, for the writing prompt 'writing as a breathing organism'
Created
‘There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand.’ — Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
Inhalation —
Lungs bursting with the weight of it
veins full of the spirit
symbiosis
(which one of us
is the parasite?)
It’s alive
— mad scientist calls into the night —
but you know.
You know what he really meant.
Not reanimation,
instead this —
this infernal creation.
— The story he told
And with each telling
the creature grew
and the creator
shrank from view.
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So, whatcha think?
Talk to me! 😊💬
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Great poem, Cee! That picture is quite interesting too.
ReplyDeleteThanks! :) And lol, my stock-photo selection skills are second to none! ;)
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