Strange Things Happen

Seeping a view through
The tattered and sublime
Fabric of someone’s coat,
I stood up on my toes, but
It wasn’t enough. There was
A white and black shoelace
I could spot from the corner
Of my right eye, and there was
White and blue fur which stood
Out to accentuate its fine clad
Over a petite lady’s boot; and 
That exact moment I ran to where
She stood, because I do believe
We were of the same height. She
Was sipping on an orange-blue
Liquid, and she had her ever so
Empty other hand pulled up to
Her ears, her phone blared of
A voice; something it said, yes,
Something not so clear. She waved
Her hand into the air, having been
A victim to the dislocating bars
Of a prison which held a rather
Insightful discomfort. I stood up on
My toes again, and I watched the
Stage fall; yes, I was in a theatre
And the actors fell off of balls. 
The crumbling distort of wood,
And tattered shreds of cloth covered
My face, and those of others, and
Those of children, and those of
Elders; but the petite lady by my
Side stood rigid, albeit the best of
Pandemonium unravelled to her right
And to her left. She held a calmness
In her eyes which I would place
Next to the silence in a crowded 
Room of misanthropes, but men
women who loved each other; it was a
Horrifying calmness, and I have lost
Hopes, I have, but this lady gave me
The shivers, for she had just clicked
Her finger tips together, and all of
The fabric, and wood, and balls of
Facading stories just (in one simple
Word) had disappeared; and I stood
In a milky white dot of a space where
The petite lady stood even nearer (though
Slightly) to me, and she glared- an
Intense look which shattered glass
And cracked it up at places that
Didn’t matter- she glared, and I felt
My bare skin vamoosing out of my
Soul, my muscles being torn apart,
My blood mixing in the white of this
Strange oblivion, and my cells departing
My very being, till even my eyes were 
Gone. It didn’t hurt at all, wasn’t that
A bit strange? What was more daunting
Was when I heard muffled whispers in
My ears, asking me to come near, telling 
Me to sear my soul of its holes. Along
With the other things these voices said,
They also told me, quietly, that I was dead.


8 thoughts on “Strange Things Happen

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