I awoke, starved of my conviction, stomach empty and knotted with lost, hollowed eyes, their zealous flame extinguished. Empty, consistency of tin; shrapnel and loose trigger swarming in my intestines, so many bullets puncturing my organs and I think? I’m bleeding?
My organs coalesce to. disheartening stages and reverse into
collapse…d flesh
in heaps and
This junkyard is. bleeding.
…I turn my back and
your luggage is gone
and you fuck the bellman
with my body
afloat in
sea of people and
trigger in mouth with
clang-and-tickticktock of time bomb
cluttering my ears.
Author notes
This isn't finished yet. I'm sure you'll realize.I know the line breaks are somewhat sporadic, but it's suppose to help convey a feeling of panic.. something like that.
I'm not done yet...
Comments
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masterful
now i have to think hard as most writers do, including you -
Poet
seems there is a certain struggle going on in the poets mind. Perhaps a mistrust of the love and a cause to react in an unfashioned way.. Does make the reader ponder.
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