Officially out there – A Poem by Theo Lonic

Letting go means happiness to you,
fear cascading out, shaped as your life career
In being an oxymoron.
You cannot stop thinking about her,
how she died, why?
She probably died inside.
That’s enough to make one a walking morbid phantasy.
A functional corpse you’re becoming
with each day you spend in the library of war.
You think it’s so easy to kill another body
and so hard to kill yourself!
Why so easy?
How
she became a literary event,
repeating itself in others,
that Angel of Death, remember?
She ate men at breakfast, lunch or dinner,
some had to be a snack,
evolving into yet another cliché.

Visit Theo at https://theodoraoniceanu.wordpress.com.