Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Falling fast down hovelled stairs, digesting wealth to ransom cares, grotesque men who soil and harrow suspend my dreams from thinning rope. As discharge weeps from places raw and blisters burn a molten core, another phallus, soiled and poisoned wants for smack and cunny’d ****** I bleed from wounds so deep within of pain so stark and crude and raw that pins me ‘neath the brine of sin like drowning prey in ***** and **** I fail to dim the moving shadows: those twisting jerks of spewed release – but coming soon will silent growls of dripping fat and blistered guilts. Voiced within me, vague and distant, something cries, yet tears withdraw. Copious unheard pleas are buried; here lay I, unknown, destroyed. To burrow past unhuman men (to further seal a keyless lock) would ‘splay me in the public eye, exampled, maimed, defeated; lost. Phlegm and fur may line my mouth; engorged, my lips, a ***** for more. But somewhere deep inside myself I’ve walked away from Brothel Shore.
0
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 7:46 PM UTC
BROTHEL SHORE
Falling fast down hovelled stairs, digesting wealth to ransom cares, grotesque men who soil and harrow suspend my dreams from thinning rope. As discharge weeps from places raw and blisters burn a molten core, another phallus, soiled and poisoned wants for smack and cunny’d ****** I bleed from wounds so deep within of pain so stark and crude and raw that pins me ‘neath the brine of sin like drowning prey in ***** and **** I fail to dim the moving shadows: those twisting jerks of spewed release – but coming soon will silent growls of dripping fat and blistered guilts. Voiced within me, vague and distant, something cries, yet tears withdraw. Copious unheard pleas are buried; here lay I, unknown, destroyed. To burrow past unhuman men (to further seal a keyless lock) would ‘splay me in the public eye, exampled, maimed, defeated; lost. Phlegm and fur may line my mouth; engorged, my lips, a ***** for more. But somewhere deep inside myself I’ve walked away from Brothel Shore.
© Tamara Natividad www.pisceanesque.com Written 18 October, 2009 -
pisceanesque
Written by
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 7:46 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem