NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Four: Metamorphoses

Incredible, but true: I am running out of inspiration. (Or maybe I’m just very tired…)

Self-Portrait as a Grotesque
by Kalyiel

Perched onto an oriel window,
I look down at the city.
No one looks up, except children
And tourists. But if they would,
They’d see a pair of green eyes –
The moss made them green,
And when I look down, I see
As Nero saw, when he watched
Gladiator fights; they’d see
An open mouth – wide-open,
Invaded by ivy and bastard flowers,
Feeding on my tongue, their roots
Reaching to the base of my throat,
Choking a scream of horror.
They’d see insects, parading
Over my face, sucking at my pores,
Laying eggs inside my ears.
Perched onto an oriel window,
They’d see a wild garden,
Irregular green, and nothing else.

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