Meditating in the carnage, my core's cyanide became warm milk before bed. My carcass coexisted in inconsistent comfort, that safety untouched like internal feelings. Unstable caramelized eyes watered down to a wary hazelnut from lack of love, the way the phone screen glows white to gray at 4 AM. Aching in agony; I haven't found a person to care for the poison within me-
I love using metaphors, similes, etc for poems.... This one took an odd turn... All feedback is welcome!