This is my second entry for the dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night. If you enjoy poetry or prose, whether you liked mine or not, you can find many more poems over at dVerse, where they regularly post different prompts and blog-hops, or you can explore the other participants at the OLN link-up.
Autopsy of Inheritance
To separate you from me,
I drove a hatchet straight into this chest of mine,
split it open in the shape of a Y —
performing an autopsy of inheritance.
But as I pulled back the flesh
and reached inside
to disconnect the veins from the lump
that forgot how to beat at the mention of your name,
I found that you were not in my heart at all.
It is in the marrow that you reside.
So I sat down at the vanity,
holding a bone saw in one hand, yet
when I take a closer look at myself,
I still recognize your eyes:
lifeless,
cold,
predatory.
“You will never amount to anything.”
I laugh through the tears as I realize
that even my voice has become
an imitation of yours.
So I clamp my hand to my mouth
and swallow your words one by one
because I refuse to become
a constructed ghost
of a dead man.
There's more of my work:
All of the six-sentence stories.
The Nervous Poet Entries for the SSC&B.
There is also a page for all of the poetry.
More personal entries can be found at the Blog.
The IT studies blog in Estonian for a course at the university.
the Band "Chaos in Spring" is on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.
Even moreso, what is dark, what makes one sad, need to be written
Bravo
Much love
Thank you for the comment,
Yes
Writing is the only way
I enjoyed this very much.
Thank you so much, am happy ?
This is so poignant ~
I resonate with; “even my voice has become an imitation of yours.”
Thank you so much.
Wow. Hyperbole meets metaphor…very successfully, I would say. What a powerful poem.
Thank you for the kind comment, it means a lot!
I love the strong voice. Beautiful writing and that ending was a kicker.
Thank you.
The imagery of that autopsy was so vivid, many of us are so used to the imagery of crime shows and this worked so well to make a point…
I felt this as the one part of us we can never escape or cut out and that is our parents (at least that was my interpretation)
Thank you for the comment and yes, while we can’t cut out our parents or our family we can try being better.
Am happy you found it effective.
A striking and gutsy write that grabs the reader immediately. I see my mother in myself, which I can be grateful for. I sympathise and empathise with others who may not have been so lucky. Excellently written, Reelika ?
Thank you for the comment.
What a stupendous metaphor for the self-analysis that follows lost/failed love., Reeloka Years later and now as secure as is possible in relationship, there are moments from the past that still evoke forensic analysis from me and here you spell out the process…
Failed love, horrible parent, a dead person. It can go about everyone and everything.
That’s the beauty of poetry, open for interpretation.
Am glad you enjoyed it so much and shared yours,
self-analysis can be forensic.
Thank you!
Whoa! So dark. Loved it.
It came out a bit dark yeah…
Am glad you still liked it
Thank you.
A powerful poem, “an autopsy of inheritance”–with strength and self-survival at the end.
Thank you a lot! Your comment made me smile.
How true your poem speaks to me.
There are manipulators who want to control others to write their narrative. I use self-censure & discipline to avoid confrontation. But yet they hound me, as if I would consent to more punishment!
Thank you for the comment,
am sorry that it speaks to you.