Literary Yard

Search for meaning


By Onkar Sharma


“I’ll freak you out with my disembodied voice.
I’ll shriek you out though I’m stabbed thrice.”

The Sound starts the blues and thrills the torso.
It belongs dolefully to the oblivious world.
The shuffle resumes and retreats.
Fuckin‘ past so much!
Mistakes of the marriage
Chucked me into the death carriage.
Fuck the ass…stop…move…continue…fie!
Didn’t bullshit shoot the heart…

A pair of scissors.
Scissors for a pair of tits, eyes and the belly.
Cold, demented and broken as I stand.
Maybe so.
My unmoved devil fingers.
You see the scissors seized everything.
This person.
An angel.
Didn’t bullshit shoot the heart again…

Who are you?
A disembodied voice tears me around.
A mixture of identical faces shrieks at.
Beyond this house, beyond that tree, beyond that rock, beyond those charred hills.
Go away!
It makes me insane, o dead wife!
Didn’t bullshit shoot the heart again, ah!


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