Broken Harmonies: An Elegy for the Absurd #BlogchatterA2Z #poetry

the wreckage of laughter

a laugh / a gasp / a sob swallowed whole—
the walls crack, thirsty for echoes.
dust motes dance in the slivers of light,
mocking the silence with their fleeting ballet.
somewhere, a mirror breaks itself in protest.
not out of fear,
but because it is tired of seeing the same phantom smile,
the same hollow eyes reflecting an empty room.
lover, come closer.
(your touch is a grave i am willing to enter,
a cold embrace more familiar than sunlight.)
the earth beneath this floor remembers your weight,
the ghost of your footsteps a constant tremor.
the night is swallowing its own shadow,
a black hole expanding in the corners of my vision.
i count the ways a body can fold into longing:
a contortionist of the heart, twisting into impossible shapes.
twice, i call your name, a broken record skipping in the dark.
thrice, i swallow it instead, a bitter pill lodging in my throat.
each unspoken syllable a phantom limb, aching for release.
i burned the letters before i read them,
a ritual of erasure that failed spectacularly.
but the smoke whispered your name anyway,
a phantom scent clinging to the curtains.
(did you hear it in the rustle of the wind?
or was it just the sigh of a dying star?)
the ashes still hold the ghost of your handwriting,
each charred fragment a tiny monument to what was.

cigarettes & lullabies

your fingers are matchsticks—
you strike them against my spine,
watching me burn for the sport of it,
a pyromaniac of the soul, igniting my vulnerabilities.
the embers glowed with a dangerous beauty,
a fleeting warmth that always turned to ash.
you said love was a song,
a melody woven from stolen glances and whispered promises,
but we only knew the screams,
a discordant symphony of shattered expectations.
our harmonies were always off-key, a painful dissonance.
we are a joke told at a funeral.
the kind that makes the widow flinch,
a cruel irony that twists the knife of grief.
but the dead might have laughed, a hollow, knowing sound.
perhaps they understood the absurdity of it all.
& yet—
your hands like velvet handcuffs,
soft restraints that held me captive in your orbit.
your breath, the promise of sin,
a forbidden fruit I couldn't resist tasting.
your mouth, a doorway to nowhere,
a black hole of desire that swallowed my sanity.
the taste of you still lingers, a phantom on my tongue.
last night i dreamt of drowning in champagne,
bubbles rising like desperate pleas,
and woke up coughing ink,
black words staining the pillowcase, a testament to our toxic narrative.
your name in cursive bruises,
indelible marks on the landscape of my skin.
darling, does madness turn you on?
the thrill of the precipice, the allure of the abyss?
(you always did like the taste of catastrophe,
the sweet tang of destruction on your lips.)
the chaos we created was our twisted masterpiece.

anatomy of ruin

somewhere, an old love song plays in reverse,
each note unwinding, a rewind of our demise.
the melody, once sweet, now a haunting lament.
the bed remembers better days,
the imprint of your body a ghost beneath the sheets.
the sheets weep in silence,
absorbing the tears I refuse to shed.
i could map the constellations
inside the scars you left,
a celestial cartography of our downfall.
this one was tuesday, a casual cruelty whispered over coffee.
this one was a wednesday lie, a carefully constructed facade.
this one was a sunday goodbye, a final, echoing silence.
each mark a reminder of the battles fought and lost within these walls.
i say i don't miss you,
a lie I tell myself in the pale morning light.
but my spine disagrees,
it still arches in phantom anticipation of your touch.
my bones remember the way you used to hold me,
a skeletal memory that refuses to fade.
you left your fingerprints on my silence,
an invisible residue of your presence.
now everything i don't say
still sounds like you,
a phantom echo in the hollow chambers of my heart.
the unspoken words are heavy, laden with your absence.

the grotesque waltz

love was always a question, never an answer,
a riddle we could never solve, a puzzle with missing pieces.
we peeled each other apart, expecting epiphanies,
searching for some hidden truth beneath the surface.
instead, we found—
hunger, a gnawing emptiness that no amount of touch could fill.
emptiness, a vast and echoing void where connection should have been.
the aftertaste of a name, a bitter residue on the palate of memory.
if i tell you the moon undressed for no one,
a celestial exhibitionist indifferent to our human dramas,
will you still take off your skin for me?
reveal the raw vulnerability beneath the surface?
i could drown in the space between your ribs,
a hollow cavity where your heart should have been.
but you never let me in,
the door always locked, the windows shuttered.
i remained an outsider, peering into a world I could never truly inhabit.
the dance we shared was grotesque, a macabre ballet.
two figures moving in discordant steps, a waltz of ruin.
we stumbled and swayed, our movements fueled by desperation,
a tragicomedy played out in the confines of our shared space.
the music was always off-key, a jarring soundtrack to our demise.

the unwritten ending

the sheets are cold, a stark reminder of your absence.
the cigarette burns alone, a solitary sentinel in the ashtray.
the ghosts in the mirror
refuse to say my name,
as if I too have become a phantom in this desolate landscape.
their reflections are blurry, indistinct, mirroring my own fading sense of self.
but tell me—
if i fall apart in your hands,
shatter into a million irreparable pieces,
will you scatter the pieces
to the four winds, a final act of dispersal?
or keep them under your pillow?
a morbid souvenir of our fractured history,
a collection of broken fragments to haunt your sleep.
the story of us remains unfinished,
an unwritten ending hanging in the air like a question mark.
the final chapter is blank, waiting to be filled with silence or perhaps, something else entirely.
the echo of your absence is the loudest sound in the room.
and I am left here, amidst the wreckage, trying to decipher the meaning of this elegy for the absurd.

#BrokenHarmoniesPoem #ElegyForTheAbsurd #ExperimentalVerse #AbsurdistLiterature #LostLove #ToxicRelationships #PoetryOfPain #LongingAndLoss #Poetry #AbstractVerse #IntrospectiveWriting #MemoryAndSilence #DissonanceInScarlet #PoetryOfRuin #GrotesqueWaltz #UnwrittenEnding

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