Jan 2017
Ammonia
My mouth became a cemetery
for all the words I didn't say,
I bought them all
tombstones and coffins
and buried them,
a self destructive funeral.
I could rip you in half,
turn into a lurid scream
and shatter your spine;
I think you would be
the perfect picture of putrefaction,
mutilated, in monochrome;
the very shade of my heart.
My mouth became a cemetery
for all the words I didn't say,
I bought them all
tombstones and coffins
and buried them,
a self destructive funeral.
I could rip you in half,
turn into a lurid scream
and shatter your spine;
I think you would be
the perfect picture of putrefaction,
mutilated, in monochrome;
the very shade of my heart.
