Flash Fiction | Poetry titled: Who am I?

Who am I?

Once upon a time in the sky, I floated on a cloud to my sweet love, 

I tried to tell him my deepest thoughts, 

revealing my entire being 

and he lay and stare,

maybe into space or some distant memory whispers sweetness in his ears but my words float in the air waiting to be swallowed by a similar being. 

Someone who understands,

who cares,

who will wipe my tears away, 

and embrace my love. 

And until then alone I sit in a sea of people, 

wasting away, 

for no one hears my cries.

Not even my tantrums 

get seen or heard. 

Invisible me,

gliding the timeline of life,

squeezing between people in a crowded world. 

No one sees,


or even catch a glimpse of my blues. 

Is it God telling me 

my problems are petty,

my sadness not true,

maybe, maybe not. 

Like splinters entering my body, agitating my inner being,

my longing, 

for a listener increases my struggle.

The war within, resist peace,

seeking a strong leader

to negotiate with my tormented mind. 

Inhaling my floating words I decide to save them for a receiving ear. 

Once they are captured in the crevices of my spirit. 

I hear his words

And I hear his words well,

You never talk to me, my lover tells me.

The words dance in my ears,

they vibrate my atoms. 

The molecules making up my body explode into rambunctious flames. 

Quickly my mind try to reason, dilute, if not put out the fire. 

Ego rolls in cascading like a waterfall carrying oil and grease. 

Then I notice the blood drenched knife. 

Then I notice his body lying their lifeless. 

What have I done? 

In the midst of my anger,


could I, 

I just don’t know. 

A knife, 

A body,

I can’t quite explain. 

Huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf, 

but I am neither big, 

nor bad,

just frantic. 

Tears begin flowing like a raging river.

Parkinsons overwhelm my soul. 

Glancing at the body I wipe my tears.

A drift runs though me, 

full of feelings,


then sadness, 

but now happiness fills my veins. 

My frown turns upside down

Oh how I like the way that rhymes. 

His face so peaceful like,

his body lie limp,

Oh my,

Who am I?

Flash Fiction | Poetry by Ingrid Jennings

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