Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
1d
Consumed consummation,
rotating indecision.
Feral and harrowed
and narrowed precision.

(You've seen this movie before)

My stomach is full
dessicated butterfly bodies,
drowned in the acid
of my stomach.

(It's always the same story)

I will gargle glistening aspic,
purge until I bleed out.
But the only way I'm leaving
is with you, beyond all doubt.

(...what if this time's different?)
RMatheson
Written by
RMatheson  M/Beating tired bones
(M/Beating tired bones)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems