Wrinkles, wrinkles.
Such gross manifestations of having lived.
We should sprout flowers for the days that have passed,
not wear time’s stretch marks like scars,
observing our skin’s decay while waiting for life to start.
Lines crawling around eyes trying to shine with youth,
cracking under laughter that makes us hungry for more life.
Wrinkles, grotesque and insincere.
Lies on the surface of our souls.
Cracks in the sweetness of our immortal dreams.
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[illustration by elba goodey]
Slobbering Hounds is an honest blog dedicated to short, illuminating pieces of writing of 500 words or less. Every entry is true, and has been inspired by events in my life, or the lives of others I come across. I hope that by reflecting the human condition in this way, that I can make someone, anyone, feel that we are all, in our longing, the same.
The Soul of the Slobbering Hound
Whole weeks go by and the words don’t come, but bark instead from the cavernous deep of my longing, of my confusion, of my loved and lost, of my ambition and inadequacy, of my dying, of my fear, of my disgust. Barking like slobbering hounds, ungrateful for the opportunity I’ve given them to live again, to be reborn, but no. They are creatures of habit, these dogs, these thoughts, this heart of mine. It wants what it had, and only when it gets it will it start wanting everything else as well.
[illustration by elba goodey]
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- I write because the words depend on me to find them. I depend on them to find me, too.
Thank You For Reading Slobbering Hounds
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1 comment:
beautifully written but i disagree. wrinkles are the records of facial language over time. they are truths, flaws and reminders of having lived. i wish i could express it as coherently as you, i might even convince you about their sincerity...
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