Filling the empty holes of your tainted spine
A spine that has been pierced over and over
Like blade that sank in the Aztec heart one last time
Shattered and battered, as you still stand on two feet
As the spiders begin to web those ripped shreds
A slow and painful process, echoing in the silence
Of my mouth, that will no longer sing.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
Filling the empty holes of your tainted spine
A spine that has been pierced over and over
Like blade that sank in the Aztec heart one last time
Shattered and battered, as you still stand on two feet
As the spiders begin to web those ripped shreds
A slow and painful process, echoing in the silence
Of my mouth, that will no longer sing.
