"A Scream into the Abyss"
A Halloween Poem
I can’t believe it’s the penultimate day of the third to last month of the most wretched year of my life. Feels I’ve waited the whole month for October to begin And here it is, ending before I’ve staked my claim. Here it is, rainy. Wet. Dreary. Steamy, Bated breath as I watch the angle of the sun, once again unfamiliar this time of year: A sourish yellow haunts the noon as a warmer planet pants for relief. It’s different now. But today, at least, the wind blows the wet leaves, and these indescribably pungent color changes pump me full with nostalgia so effervescent it’s sure to break my skin.
I stand I look I watch I wonder how long until they all fall to grace the ground, removing their leafy selves from timber taller than I could ever hope to be? And a certain song plays, strumming my nostalgia so tight, I wish to crack its chest (the song’s) and climb into the cove the convex ribcage carves out (the song’s) and clamber so deep, so cozy, so raw, the song bleeds out of my own ears and surrounds me with warmth I wish And another leaf falls. Why is it so satisfying to scrape out the stringy wet innards of a hollow gourd? Centuries worth of people have done this, have stabbed the lush flesh- lurid really- have stabbed the lurid flesh over and over- sawed it really- to scrape shapes into flesh eerily quite close to human And it does really feel good, though. It did tonight. This penultimate spooky night when I carved a pumpkin, scraped it clean, flesh marred with teeth marks to prove that I or someone strong enough, could take its brains out and keep them for myself. Spice and roast and eat them too, if I really wanted… And tomorrow, I will shove a little light in. To show that I too am spooky. I too am haunted. I too am not afraid to carve out that which was to make room for that which can be and is monstrous.
