Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2014
these thoughts sit next to me, soaking in formaldehyde,
as dawn shines blue through the curtains,
illuminating the jar.

these dreams drain in morbid fibers,
shrinking in a vase, glowing weird orange
in the morning blaze.

this dragon's eyes are insane orbs,
its belly is sliced, leaking, quenching
my thirst.

this dissonance
is played on my spinal cord
by a sickly muse.

this nowhere opens my expanse.
J
Written by
J
540
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems