Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2014
Every abrasion
Is a souvenir from the edge
Forever pairing the glass of red
With melancholy
Place the pitiable ruins of this ephemeral vivacity
Through the shredder
Go forth and breeze through life
Never mind the dagger
In my back
Cast a shadow on my existence
Crucify me, captain.
"There is a certain clinical
satisfaction in seeing just how bad things can get" - Plath
The Noose
Written by
The Noose  32/F/Standing on the gallows
(32/F/Standing on the gallows)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems