braced in a corner

blank eyes



lips draw tight


pumps out-of-order,

veins pulse a staccato rhythm .


from a drugged slumber,

a nightmare beside you in bed

traverse a grey quarry,

torn bloodied flesh

suspended from

grimy streaked feet,

scramble a muddy embankment,


land face down in the earth,

muck in your nose

mouth full of mire

suck hard,


seek liberation


Author: Jo Bryant

I was born in the land of Banjo Paterson, gum trees, and weather extremes. I am a freelance writer. I live in the Bay of Plenty, New Zealand, but still like to claim my Australian heritage. I graduated with a Bachelor of Communications in 2008. I am writing my first novel. I love to write poetry, short stories, and also write for the web. And there is nothing that is on a par with a sunny summer's day spent at Waihi Beach.

1 thought on “Melancholy”

There are two things I know for certain. One: Bert and Ernie are gay. Two: I want to hear your opinion.

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