An Island Poem by Amouta Stardancer

(An Explanation)
The island,
isolated,
I am,
defined and whole,
but for loneliness.

(A Query)
Have I been here all my life?
Or has my need for something grown,
to show this horrid gap in provision,
the companionlessness of my soul?

(A Simile)
Loneliness,
like gnats,
mosquitoes,
it never goes away,
sometimes better,
most often worse,
sucking my life away.

(A Nightmare)
Rotting on an island,
no one can even watch the decay,
as I lay,
lost to hope and faith,
dead,
pain crimson in the sand,
finally out of me,
the only noteworthy thing,
in this tropic wasteland.

(A Conclusion)
Even dead I’ll stay there,
my hell for all of time,
mama told me,
suicide was a crime,
and God’s punished the plagued,
so well.

(A Reality)
Send a search party,
tell them to look for blood,
cause all they’ve ever been looking for,
is the corpse lying dead inside of me,
and there never was an island,
and I’m not really bleeding yet,
maybe I’ll grow out of it,
but it’s not something I’d ever forget.

(A Story)
A haunted island,
where someone died alone they think,
what a shame,
it’s just like me,
how saddening,
to think that would become of me,
they all said I was so promising,
in youth.
Youth! When I was still only dieing.
To death!
To end unhappy things!
(A Toast)