Poems about endings
• 2 min. read
Grey sky with her stars
Endless grey, spotted wall goes on and on and on. Disinfectant in the air, noses wrinkle, nausea. The smell of death. They step into a room with a bed, Grandma with her white light hair, under light bulbs, pale. Her skin so thin, one leg out of the bed. Truth in her eyes, she keeps telling lies. She is not fine but they won’t argue with the fragile ghost of herself. The clock is ticking on the grey wall. Their eyes flash back and forth: tick tock tick tock. Her eyes are counting her stars. When the hour is gone, guests are leaving, nurses telling her to sleep. As they retrieve, she refuses to see their relief. Closing her eyes she can see her stars. Even then when they leave.
Underground
I saw it coming, I knew it came. I saw its light, yellow and bright. It was written on the screen.
I didn’t see you going, there was no hint, no clue. I didn’t see that red, that dark, nor that angel blue.
To me, it was a normal Sunday. To you, it was the final.
You sat next to me, you left. I stayed.
I cried. You died.
How can you do this to us? Or to your family? Most importantly of all, how can you do it to yourself?
Did you have anyone, anything? What got you leaving, what kept you from staying?
How many are there wailing after you? I am. I might not be entitled to say it. But. I am.
This is my stance: You should have given me a chance, I would have listened to your story.
But how could have you known I was there next to you? We had not met.
But because we hadn’t, we are in the same story now. With only one to tell it.
Match
The shape of my heart and the shape of your soul don’t match in our arms but we force them to glow.
We are more like sisters, two pros, misters with green clothing, we’re bolder. A soldier, does what it takes to keep warm in the midst of war.
We unite, ignite, a lighted match, creates warmth, soft glow, on a camp at the wintery forest. Others die around us. They freeze and we burn.
I hate you, you despise me, and yet, through the cold nights we love each other like no other has ever loved before.
Next day, on a battlefield, creeping through the spiked fence, nettling at each other, we are a bomb. A bomb about to explode at a battlefield we had worked towards together only to now disclose our case to the common enemy.
Within seconds, two bombs paint the sky red. Fire above our home; a mismatched love.
Teksti: Annukka Mäkeläinen Kuvat: Annukka Mäkeläinen