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Alter Inertia
on the way from summer’s
darting on an infinite infinitively stretched bloodless flat surface with no footprints
are dashing through alighted geometry with my vegan hi-tops on my eponychium is leaking
blood
but I am not streaking to the hospital
my feet are hurrying me to a cube to which letters with my name are sent and
my soul is ruminating
is this sacred disease or am I just anaemic a question mark
vermilion lightings germinate across my cuticle above my vessels are infested by parasites
and
filled with Citaram river of blood is toxaemic cardiovascular system of mine is distinctly
contaminated and
I am the only mammal that can make an antidote but I know I am to poison it more
for my consciousness is an inhabitant and I am solely its host a scapegoat
neurones are grown through with
cornflower emotions eddy as a tornado and every entity observing is incredulous
petroleum tears and petroleum blood a comma what do you know about this a question mark
when they’ve sealed her casket and set her on fire I felt the moroseness she could have not felt
any more
I felt the ultimate change of her atoms
I missed her I miss her I will miss
her soul departed aortas under my ribs began to desiccate and my hankering was
dampened down
tears cooled down the time spent in tenebrosity was protracted
iris revamped into Enceladus and I began considering seance
necromancy I even thought of praying to Samael I
black impecunious pockets I carried no drachmas for the ferryman
how would I get to see her anew
sat on a white wooden windowsill my skeleton is aching and
I am waiting for her as a sad cat waits for its owner
the light is reactive I remain in cold darkness where nothing can see yet can be seen
tight golden ring on my ring finger my Vena Amoris cannot please my heart with much blood
with much love
on the way from summer’s
About the writer:
Alter Inertia is a twenty-two-year-old writer residing in Nottingham, UK. He studied Creative Media & Journalism at Nottingham College, where he developed an affinity for creative writing and literary texts. He is trying to reshape the way people cognitively perceive writing consisting of sentences that are overly robotic and limited. Alter believes that writing ought to rather correspond to abstract paintings instead of ordered realism. He is currently finalizing his first collection labelled Amor Mulieribus which translates as “Love for women” whilst working on a collection named Eternal Inertia.
Image: Boom in Bloei (Tree in Bloom) by Frits Van den Berghe (1883-1939). Oil on canvas. 146 x 115 cm. 1930. Public domain.
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