The Dark Sire Issue 2 (Winter 2019) | Page 70

Silence by Bartholomew Barker The silence surprises me— no more thumping from my chest— no more swooshing through my ears— the little gurgles of a living body are now absent and missed. The last light to enter these eyes was from cold clinical fluorescents as they sewed down my lids— I felt the puncture of every needle, including the embalmer's. Limbs useless, muscles atrophied, a mind still spinning, trapped inside a skull in pain, feeling every itch of my skin— nose filled with putrid rot. The last sound was the dirt hitting the top of the coffin. Now— eternal silence which I am unable to fill with my screams. Bartholomew Barker is a poet whose first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. Born and raised in Ohio, he now lives and works in North Carolina. 68