Saccharine Irony

This site is a compilation of fluid thoughts, a collection of poetry, random glimpses of humor and tragedy, spontaneous notions of an extremely sensitive mind.

From a Papa’s Girl December 8, 2008

Filed under: Poetry — Aimee @ 8:17 am
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You closed your eyes one April
and left me balancing
on tightropes of fear,
solitude and blindness.

I fought the blindness, but
the fear and solitude I could not.

You closed your eyes one April
in a room of bare ashen walls.
My eyes blurred the moving sketches
of people garbed in white,
as they pulled out tubes and needles
from your tired, yellow-gray flesh.

I walked towards your bed only when
I could no longer bear the stillness
brought by the soft sounds
of retreating footsteps
and the pungent smell of disinfectants.

I walked towards you only when
there were mere spaces between us.
I swallowed my pain and silently called you a cheat.
You were a liar.

You never told me you were leaving.


published, Home Life Magazine, April 2005


The Saddest Lullaby September 15, 2007

Filed under: Poetry — Aimee @ 5:21 pm

The Saddest Lullaby


What would it be like to die?

I stared at the bottled fetus
And spoke silently
To the shadows cowering
Behind dusty shelves
Of dry animal bones.

I peered closer and saw
The wrinkled mass of skin
That bound together
A lifeless mass of flesh.

It looked as if it had survived
A century, only to die without
Ever growing an inch.

What would it feel like to die
Without having been born
And to float aimlessly
In such a cramped space?

I could almost hear an answer
In a voice stifled in regret,
Whispering as in a lullaby

A low, far-away, sad song.

I moved closer and realized
The voice was my own.