#362 (starboard despair)

Without clear course

neither map nor compass

sailing along treacherous seas

of distraction, her ship was

hijacked as was her compassion.

Emotional parasites like mussels

on her carcass weighing her down

leeching off momentum until

she stranded on anxiety’s bank

stuck, unmoving, frozen in time.

Her life rafts torn by sudden

currents, all oars long brittle

so there was little left to do.


Out of the blue, the tempest

took her hard, crashing waves

and still warm corpses against

strange shores, covered in pain.

Feeding off salted hope, pickled

in tears, the way back home a

shattered illusion. A makeshift

hut of weeds and wishes, the

Anemoi her lullaby.


Just like a breeze aeons flew by,

her heart encrusted like her ship

accompanied by wind and storm.

Little by little passion dripped

her thought a constant mental storm

until her gaze turned milky white

one single quiet summer night.

© Matthias Geh, 2nd July 2018

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