Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2015
ICE
Ball my fists
And hunch my shoulders
Swinging wildly
Til knuckle meets boulder
Does the earth merit my blood?
Do my bones merit the mud?
My voice becomes a vessel for words reserved for sailors and such
And my belly a sloshy sloppy pocket of ***
Writhing is my skin
At the thought of him within
Alone with no means of defense
Where defense means offense
And offense brings a means to an end
But I'd rather not think on the end
As I'm only about to begin
So I make a fist
And swing
Until nerves breach the bone
And veins burst within
I've known splinters and flint
And broken glass on skin
I know what it is to go without breath
And drown in the sink
This is just another week
Max Alvarez
Written by
Max Alvarez  Dallas
(Dallas)   
  735
     ---, Adrian R, Eudora, Eiliv Advena and Cold-Bones
Please log in to view and add comments on poems