It is the thing of bones –
****** dry of marrow –
That breathes ice and whispers –
You’ve felt It near
The warmest hearth –
That chill which twines
Up the back and settles
About the neck – choking –
Writhes Its way between vertebrae –
Imbeds within the spine –
You’ve seen how It drags
Its engorged belly over
Threadbare carpets
To rest Its head on wet kindling
During frigid nights –
Props open Its mouth
With stale loaves of bread
And waits –
You’ve heard It gnaws
On the nubs of bleeding
Nails – amputates fingers
With ground-down teeth
Flat and yellow in Its maw –
Cauterizes the wounds
With frostbite –
It will visit you
On your last bed –
Seeping through too-thin sheets
And stealing a face
You don’t recognize –
You’ll think you heard it say:
My name is –
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 9:36 PM UTC
Buzzards leave the bones,
You swallowed me whole
Stuck in your craw
Sore throat, Laryngitis
Cough me up,
My pain stays
Scraping esophagus
To a ****** tonic
Taste your own medicine,
Choke on it.
Hoarse, you call
Stop, please, why
I’ve stuffed my ears with
A cotton candy lie
Sweet and fleeting
No substance
Hollow bones break easy
Like your promise
Buzzards leave the bones,
You devoured my soul
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 9:10 PM UTC
To those who would cross me
given the smallest reason
I bid you, come forth
and bear my hellish season
Mar 19, 2020
Mar 19, 2020 at 4:45 PM UTC
On Sunday, I scoured
the skin from my
dining room table.
I smeared a sunset
to cover the scars
and in the fading light,
slanted by my living room
shades, it smiled at me
through a gap-toothed grin.
Mar 19, 2020
Mar 19, 2020 at 4:31 PM UTC
The system is flawed
Suicidal kids together
Make up our population
Too early to be awake
Minds are blank, eyes wander
Just a shitload of ***** teens
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 9:07 PM UTC