Poems by
Mary Mathew

Bleeding Dreams

a poem by Mary Mathew

It bleeds, bleeds and bleeds.
The blood flows cavernously…
My hand is stained,
My soul is tainted.
But where do I bleed?

A deadly maze thrust into me,
Throwing me deeper into its duality,
Drenching me
In its bleeding brutality.
Enough, I scream…
In pain…?

A warm liquid trickles
And then gushes,
Storms…
A piercing cry shreds
Me to pieces
Again…

My eyes open
I remain immobile,
Staring wide-eyed at my hands
Anaesthetised,
Benumbed.
I see no blood.
I don’t see her blood.
But…

My hands tremble,
My heart throbs
And I wince in unseen pain
As I recollect that fateful night
When I was at the wheels of the car,
At the wheels of our fate
When my eyes lost its vigilance on the road
And on our own lives.

Your motherly eyes
Blazing acidic bile drips,
Cursing me,
Condemning me,
“You killed her,
You killed my baby!”

Yes, I killed her.
The duality of the beast in me
Killed her,
Threw her into the dungeons of the dead.
And I imprison myself
With the corpses of the present.

I hear the tremors in her voice…
Pleading, pleading, pleading
Unto me,
Echoing, echoing, echoing
Onto me,
Merging, merging, merging
Within me,
With the unspoken vibration
Of my own pleas.

Oh despair! Claim my soul
And burn it at your stakes of deathlessness,
Immortalise my agony forever
For my sins, for my penitence,
For killing her,
Your beautiful dream.

She bleeds, bleeds and bleeds.
Your dream is bleeding,
The one that you had cherished
Is now slashed, sliced into a nightmare,
And the blood pours out, seeping into unseen cracks,
Coursing over the decayed core
Of my homicidal heart.

The bloody shadows coagulate
Forming a malodorous mass of remorse,
The newborn guilt chained to me-
As an impure bride,
The price of my misdeeds.

I plead guilty, dear mother.
I wronged you,
And these are the words of another mother
Who has been a tenant in torment
For the past ten years,
Living with the fact
That she killed your daughter,
Her own daughter’s daughter.