Dark House
My heart is a sand dune battling a sphinx
in the deep desert of this desolate house.
We’re outnumbered, outlived, outdone
by cherubs who swoop and swipe at our
riddled love until it comes undone. The
walls are ribs spelling out shadows on
the velvet curtains; I’ve been living for
this fabrication and I’m tired of being
the last to know. There’s a crystalline
pillar which lies only in the moonlight,
gnawing at my conscience with its delusions.
Should we stand tall and together, we could claw at
the night sky and write our names in chemtrails which carpet it,
say, we’ve been to hell and back. This place is just a state of mind anyway
Charlie Bowden
(he/him)
Charlie Bowden is a student from Hampshire, England, who discovered a love for writing poetry in lockdown after spending years studying it at school. His work has been published in collections by Young Writers and the Stratford Literary Festival and he recently won the 2021 Forward/emagazine Creative Critics Competition.