Alcatraz

Alcatraz.

Alcatraz. (Photo credit: Daniel2005)

My own personal Alcatraz
Ground down
Brute mortar and pestle
Hanging from walls that seep
Of age, pain and time
Sunken, craven flesh and brittle bones
But it’s all in my mind
My mind

Entrapped in thoughts of a past
Long gone
Barred in and forgotten
By everyone but me
But me

Stranded on this hopeless island
Where no ferry deigns to visit
Alone in quiet hibernation
Awaiting untold awakening
I brood on hidden wrongs
Hidden wrongs

Skeleton keys in ghostly fingers
A flash memory
Of your terrible face
Glittering eyes that teased
At a freedom you ensured
Would be elusive, lost to me
Lost to me

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

About helenvalentina

Like most people, I have a number of sides to me. The most interesting one probably emerges through my writing, hence this blog. I love to read, and also to write, and so this is a way to share both.
This entry was posted in Fire, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Alcatraz

  1. landl30 says:

    Wow… shivering images of a relationship lost and gone.
    I worked at San Quentin, so have an appreciation…. and the feeling you evoke is right on the money.

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