SY: Jaded June

NaPoWriMo Challenge Prompt Week 4:


"In his poem “The Waste Land,” T.S. Eliot famously declared that “April is the cruelest month.” But is it? I’d have thought February. Today I challenge you to write a poem in which you explore what you think is the cruelest month, and why. Perhaps it’s September, because kids have to go back to school. Or January, because the holidays are over and now you’re up to your neck in snow. Or maybe it’s a month most people wouldn’t think of (like April), but which you think of because of something that’s happened in your life."

Put me to slumber in the month of June,
Of death, attacks and unfaithfulness,
Plague me these cruel memories,
It has been years down the line,
Maybe not enough days,
Passed since it ended.
Vanished as I blink,
Faint minutes,
Seconds,
Lost.

Far,
Away,
Twenty-four,
Detesting sun rise,
Reluctant for sunset,
Frantically count it down,
Pressing for days to turn over,
Fly far away you ugly June bug.

Rancid fumes infused from your existence,
Lurk in the shadows of your absence,
Regurgitating all memories,
Purge excruciatingly,
Anaphylactic shock, 
In living remorse,
Reluctantly,
Still alive,
Alone,
Now.

Why?
Your name,
Stays longer,
Than it's welcome,
Branded in my mind,
Those perfect syllables,
Constructed with destiny,
Ring profusely through my being,
Stinging me like tattoo gun needles.

When the moon is alone in the night,
Far from the company of stars,
Remains in silent solace,
Release quiet whispers,
For winds to carry,
I cry with her,
About you,
Rivers,
Tears.

Take,
Freedom,
For myself,
Calcified valves,
Cracking flap by flap,
Living on borrowed time,
Revive from the burnt ashes,
Resurrect from the grim shadows,
Speak with the abundance of the heart.

No more sacrifices to pay off debts,
For foolish decision made by you,
Break free from manipulations,
You are not my puppeteer,
Submission in chokehold,
Will not take me down,
Now shred the deeds,
To my heart,
Cruel, cruel,
June.

- SY
13:44H 14th June 2016
Jalan Pahang




SY is a 'Jacqueline of all trades' who loves wearing plaids.
She doesn't believe in things that fade and fulfills the promises that she made.
She seeks the hearts of the troubled, to be a listener in times when things are doubled.
She's the kind who stands in the gap, who will only call it quits when it's a wrap.

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