I can hear my soul
kicking its feet inside my body

trying to get out. I can hear it
trying to boot my body into its deathbed:

Death lies waiting within the soft harp
of sleep. My soul is thrashing my ribs

twisting my spine, milking my ****
to a shrunken wrinkled prune-like mummy.

There is death crawling under our skin, death
in the broken heart of love, death in Mother Mary’s lie.

I can feel my soul slamming against my lungs
trying to puncture holes in them. I can

feel its pointed teeth eating its way out
of my ***. I hear it inside of me

laughing at God’s sick jokes, licking my heart
dry and clawing at my eyes.

—————————————————————————
From my second book: 'The Second Coming'
©dah / Stillpoint Books 2012

all rights reserved

http://www.amazon.com/The-Second-Coming-Dah/dp/0982874715