Inanimate whispers. Final part2 of 2. #shortstories #poetry

Inanimate whispers. Final part2 of 2. #shortstories #poetry

For a more immersive read, find Part 1 HERE

Some of you may die but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make
Yet how do I make it?
My soul clings to these objects
Inanimate but living, meant to be dead
A guileless bond I long to sever
Memories long due for a guillotine demise
Or perhaps the gallows
Or burnt at the stake
I toy with all ideas
It is easy to imagine being free from these objects
But damn near impossible to do it myself
And yet I must
For they hold on to me
these troves most precious and most corrupting
tightening their noose each time I fight against them

The voice of inanimates is alive tonight, the lake is restless
Palina, they call to me…
I think of why I brought them here
To toss in this lake that churns so near
To rid myself of secrets dear
When love and loss become unclear
Cup, Book, Knife
and an apple bitten by shadow
We are all intertwined…

My secrets hide in a pyramid of lies
In a well of memory
dark and dunk where once was light
Things I must face
Things I won’t survive…


The cup, now chipped, demands justice for long departed lips
It recalls love’s kiss even better than I do
And its fondness haunts me, it mocks and breaks me
chipping at my heart in vengeance
Your fault Palina, the cup says-
for depriving us both, of our greatest love

The book, now stained, may seem sympathetic
It alone, appears to refrain from judgement
For it holds and treasures all your deceitful love notes
It still believes them
Sweet joys that long turned to bitter betrayals
Yet not so bitter that I forget their sweetness
I will never forget, and the book tries to forgive me
It knows why I did what I did
It understands why I changed those love notes into poems of despair
But deep down I know it hates me for it
For replacing its joy with pain

As I retrieve the apple at my feet
Its innards now yellow from the lurking watcher’s bite
my heart races and I reach for the knife
I gasp for as ever, it is icy with readiness
As it was on the night it drained my greatest love of life.
Then, another twig snaps!
so close I see a wispy breath steam from the shadows
In my hand the knife thrums with incubated thirst
‘Our secret’ it whispers as it did that night
But when I see the lurker faze from shadow,
the knife droops to my side, doused by the horror that grips me…


The wind blows and darkness watches
These objects have conjured my love reckoning
‘Palina’ the lurker whispers
And I close my eyes as tears run down them
And I grip my head as sanity flees regret
And for a moment I wrestle with burning guilt and icy shame
Until I think,
How beautiful it must be
to meet one’s demise at the hands of one’s greatest love
And I wield the doused knife which comes alive with intrepid fervor
And it plunges
And my warmth gushes
And I hold your effigy’s gaze
Hoping beyond hope
that you’ll be here when my soul returns
And this time, you’ll love me as I have loved you…


Reena’s exploration challenge – opening line in bold

Eugi’s weekly – intertwined

Sadje’s #whatdoyousee

Caley’s #writephoto

33 responses to “Inanimate whispers. Final part2 of 2. #shortstories #poetry”

  1. My secrets hide in a pyramid of lies
    In a well of memory
    dark and dunk where once was light
    Things I must face
    Things I won’t survive…

    This is a wonderful combination of feeling, format and a fiction prompt.

    Liked by 3 people

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