I want only the fastest means possible
that can dig greedily
underneath my skin.
There are bullets that sweat themselves across me,
weighing me down
like morning.
The sky eats me up,
my flesh crawling beneath it
until I'm watery
and veined.
You taste like rape
and watermelons-
only seedless
and exhausted.
I hollow out
too many sockets in your skull,
till you leak into my sleep
and I shake the wrinkles
off me.
There's this constant echo
running itself through me
but it's no stranger
than yesterday.
I weigh my hands
in temperature,
leaving them cut
and disjointed.
Every mask
is a brutality,
my lungs collapsing
in this heavy air;
but I've no
cold water.
Author notes
Prompt:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vewm5l-i-yw
A contest entry
- Slither Me by grm.
21300 points, ended October 3, 2008, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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hmmm...rape and watermelons...my favorite sandwich
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Lol, thanks.
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