Haunt, a poem by Emma Wells at Spillwords.com
Art Dreams



written by: Emma Wells


Lost fingers fumble
for warmth
stretching an eternity
to reach you…

…finding only empty expanse.

Eons of landscaped pastures
missing a gilded frame –
edges to touch for reassurance,
tactile treasures.

I am such a portrait.

Empty, paint-flecked walls
echo lost words;
black-heart endearments
sing forth in melancholic daubs,
punctuating thoughts
as macabre Morse code:
an inverted language.

A figment of an elongated heart,
spreads thinly as clingfilm
choking breaths that pant hot,
too fast,
too hot – for you.
You are a liquid curse
chanting discordantly:
too loudly;
too brazenly
as heated metal –
encircling my mind;
stitching my mouth
and deafening my ears.


all is sticky heaven
where I’m trapped,
(held fast)
by you –
a fly on a smoke screen,
squished, struggling –
painting bloodless smears
with taut memories
that blind,


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