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May 2023
Escaping trachea
death rattle on my tongue
leaves a taste of vacancy;
can barely breathe,
these black lungs wheeze,
never sleep heavenly.
Born nakedly,
basic needs
became an aching grief;
never what it seems
no sanctions nor safeties,
all i achieve
is empty pleas.

Is it heresy
if a nightmare's just
how demons dream?
Hellaciously
faces scream
awakened by the smell of kerosene;
even atheist abomination,
disgraced and faithless,
keeps belief in satan
in this place of fiends.
Still had writer's block but this one actually came out pretty quick... was also experimenting a bit with multisyllabic rhyme
Andrew Crawford
Written by
Andrew Crawford  31/M/Ohio
(31/M/Ohio)   
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