Your Laughter Pops Like a Balloon

Your laughter pops like a balloon,
Filling the room with a tar-thick poison,
Leaving Black air for me to breathe,
To choke on.  Your cackle explodes:
Boom!
           Like a bomb.
                                 Boom!
                                             Like a gun.
It'll get me soon. I expect to hear it's tune...
Your laugh is a charge of impending doom.

But lingering is the laughter of a loon.
When I'm pulled apart and devoured by the world,
It pulls up a chair and joins to consume.
It likes to eat slowly,
By the light of the moon.
It likes to poke at my open wound.
It salts my tenderest places. Soon
I'll be limp raw meat in its
Cacophonous womb.

Death by your laughter is my gloomy end.
Death by your laughter is a bloody feast,

My friend.







Copyright 1999  Liya Khenkin