Mono no aware

Mono no aware
I am breathless
Unborn being, ancient tune
Forced into a field of staring eyes
A barred dome of made-believe concepts

Surely existence couldn’t be this fragile? Why give us a gift of this divinity just to make it fleeting, perishable, like the hopes of yesterday?
Surely this is all a dream.

But my hands bleed so red and clear, and my stomach aches from thoughts. I do not know whether to listen to the world or to hear myself. I can’t see trough this layers of mold. My body is decomposing in front of me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Why do I have to carry this? My veins break and my skin melts like ice cream on a hot summer day. The only thing that comforts my fear of death is the thought of death. Why?

Mono no aware (n.) (phr.) lit: “the pathos of things”; the gentle wistfulness at the transience of things, the awareness of the sadness of existence

Malicia Frost 


About Malicia Frost

Your local Frankenstein.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s