poetry n stuff
No I’m not quite comfortable in my assigned space under the watery veil of perception It sounds like gurgling plug holes and muffled breath, my ears bleed when I’m tempted to poke an index finger through the friction filled air
By AB2 years ago in Poets
Sometimes things I kill come back Sometimes they stalk mirror images of what was supposed to be the past My back has holes black and red and wet
By AB4 years ago in Poets
Just a little to the left, just a little to the backward Just a little to the up-side-down Just a few more nibbles; just a few more wounds; just a little less
By AB6 years ago in Poets
I can feel my pulse in my teeth Smell the dirt with my hair Feel your stare in my spine Taste the iron of blood Hear a beat behind my eyes