Shattered glass on my mind.
Beaten shards on my flesh.
This one free slice self assigned.
My make up of dark blood needing to be new and fresh.
That slice breaks my pores one by one.
Causing my eyes to twitch.
The engadging activity is much like playing with a loaded gun.
One wrong hit and forever have an irritating itch.
The scent of rotted blood in cracks on wood.
The scene of yellow walls in windows through pupils.
Every movement being fully understood.
.This One Free Slice Self Assigned.
Author notes
Just A Random Collection Of Thoughts.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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If this is a random collection of thoughts, it's from a strange place - a deserted graveyard at midnight?
Effective layering of images, that produces a feeling of dislocation, alienation. Line 7, I think you mean 'engaging'. -
Wow. I really liked this poem. Great flow and wording on the "One slice self assigned". It sounds like something The Used would sing about and reminds me of "Small, simple, safe price" in a way. Quite relatable, also. Great Job!
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