gaslit & ghosted
then left to grey abandon
why were you not told
Text by TONY SINGLE
Image by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2022
gaslit & ghosted
then left to grey abandon
why were you not told
Text by TONY SINGLE
Image by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2022
You’re out for
a walk every day
buttoned from
throat to knees
the hood pulled over your head
Man-in-Heavy-Sheath
You’re untouched
by the Sun and rains
You’re sheltered
You’re secure
Nothing can hurt your soft pith
Man-in-Heavy-Sheath
But one day
one beautiful day
a strange rain
flecked your coat
You didn’t care, you were careless
Man-in-Heavy-Sheath
You got home
You hung your wet coat
on a hook
and you missed
shimmering rainbow spatters
on your heavy sheath
Next morning
you put on your coat
buttoned from
throat to knees
and went out into the street
Man-in-Heavy-Sheath
A few steps…
and… what the devil?
You felt how
the Sun heats
your back… Something strange happened
with your heavy sheath
You’re so scared
You run to your home
You should clean
You should wash
You can’t let the Sun disturb
your soft pith again
You can’t sleep
You have a nightmare
how you walk
stark naked
and the most horrible thing
that you feel happy
Next morning
you put on your coat
buttoned from
throat to knees
Oh, poor Man-in-Heavy-Sheath…
can’t you believe? Still?
Day-by-day
you pace the small room
Night-by-night
you don’t sleep
You must forget this feeling
You must recall it
You’re drained by
fright and exhaustion
You’re ready
to end this
You run through an open door
like a suicide
You come round
naked on the road
You feel how
the Sun strokes…
and the most horrible thing…
Hey! Say it out loud!
…I sit here
happy and guilty
Should I say
“I’m sorry”
for spattering you with love,
Man-lost-Heavy-Sheath?
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015
Change your very being to blend in
Not be colorful while the rest have pale skin
Ignore the crow’s calling to sleep with doves
Maybe then you will find true love.
Love of being accepted into to the idea of Propriety,
Bearing the dark mark of a disheveled society
Vanish into the constant pattern of in-numerous nobody’s
Trapped in the array, mind fervently fuzzy.
Cut the sides, smooth the edges
To fit right in, resignation you must pledge.
The fear of being an outcast far too great
Sink into the mould as triangles tessellate.
Is this the wondrous utopia you had dreamt ?
An atrocious life where you are unnaturally bent.
Maybe you were never meant to fit the “mould”
But instead to be your true motley of silver and gold.
by OBSIDIAN VISIONARY
© All rights reserved 2015