I'm a poet and an aspiring novelist from El Dorado, AR.
Shall tear Off My Mask? That depends…will you like the man underneath? Do you prefer the caterpillar that treks the earth inch by inch,
By Kourtney Risher7 years ago in Poets
It’s all noise. A cacophony of opinions, rattling around in the sponge in your skull. If you allow it, the voices can thin your blood,
Days blur together through a haze of struggle. I am an automaton with a free spirit at its core. A core that is malleable on the inside, but is rock hard on the outside,
Hello Me, meet me at the corner of Who You Are and Who You Want to Be. Do not try to resist or flee. I know these streets, every crack, alley, and turn,
Acid flows through the colossal gaping hole in my chest, Created by Death’s Scythe. Hope is eroded and seared off. Little pinkish red-flakes float out into the air.
Scratch, scratch, claw, claw Skin chips away, slowly exposing flesh The newly confident man seeks inner truth Scratch, scratch, claw, tear
The man goes outside the well to fill up his bucket. He looks in the filthy black water, the moon giving off a glimmer of life in an otherwise cesspool.
I get up in the morning and look into the mirror. The glass is spotless and is as clear as my skin. Light bounces off the glass,
Thump, thump Can you hear it? Thump, thump That’s your savage heart trying to escape your chest You’ve caged the animal for years for fear of what it would do
I came to a hole in the wall bar on a hot and dark night in August, the month of my birth. I approached the counter looking for death,
You point at us and laugh and say that we’re trash while you make cash from the blood of our sons, wash the stains from your hands, and sweep up the ash.
As I stare out of the foggy window at the storm of the century on a day as grey as my fleeting heart, I pick up the forty-five on the window sill.