Mar 23
I searched the face of the hollow man
as I drove the dagger through his empty heart
drained by love given
but not replaced
he cried to me
conceiving his defeat
to shield his soul from the pangs of living
the blood of fleeing life
and the tears of anguish
fell in drops
to the time-worn floor of the dismal room
a light breeze eased the curtain aside
a blinking hotel sign
revealed a dead man
lying beneath a mirror
smeared with blood
dried to the image of a stretched palm
many hours later
as I drove the dagger through his empty heart
drained by love given
but not replaced
he cried to me
conceiving his defeat
to shield his soul from the pangs of living
the blood of fleeing life
and the tears of anguish
fell in drops
to the time-worn floor of the dismal room
a light breeze eased the curtain aside
a blinking hotel sign
revealed a dead man
lying beneath a mirror
smeared with blood
dried to the image of a stretched palm
many hours later
I posted this in 2018, but I wrote it in 1974...and read it in front of the Creative Writing class. I got very strange looks afterwards. I was a very quiet teenager and this was unexpected I'm sure. The faces when I was done reading in that classroom are etched in my memory
