Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2013
I call you an *****;

An ***** player,
Player of hearts and eyes alike
Your fingers pressed to the porcelain
as if the weather depends on
whether or not the pipes pipe up
as if a heart does not beat without
your hands repairing the metal indents

An ***** donor,
Donor of drunken livers and stomachs full of barbed wire fencing
Your lips pointed upward once awakened from dissection
as if you could lacerate a human being from the inside
and go on being
as if keeping them in liquor-filled mason jars
will cradle their fear

An ***** system,
Without a skeleton or bandaids to piece yourself together
You bleed out and ignite a single flame
as if you could burn a house down
with all your leaving
as if you could survive a life spineless
not living but breathing

Written by
Dandy  The District of Denial
(The District of Denial)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems