Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 10
ivories that are made of letters
grey skin, blackred hair, word babies
gigantic mirror, blackly glowing
psychedelic nature like 1968

apartment in the projects
hallways full of dust and spiders
uncle is smoking the daylight away
his walls covered with bulletholes

red and tired eyes, no smiling
uncle's wife killed in a car crash
dead goons are torturing him now
the memory of her dead body, stuck

past encounters like smoke in the air
red frost covers uncle's body, glaciers
a button to turn back time, fantasies
melting hours for god's sacrifices
Today is a sad day.
Written by
Tizzop  M/PLACELESS DESKTOP
(M/PLACELESS DESKTOP)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems