Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Less than a question, stuck playing all the old games; a face carved from wood. Stuck playing midnight, quoting Castro on hunger; Loss of appetite crucial to understand the feeling of having none, but this is just greed. I eviscerate and consume nothing, woeful. Flesh does not have me. Ticking Casio, breathing time into nonsense. Digital. Solid.
0
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC
"Rottenhearted."
Less than a question, stuck playing all the old games; a face carved from wood. Stuck playing midnight, quoting Castro on hunger; Loss of appetite crucial to understand the feeling of having none, but this is just greed. I eviscerate and consume nothing, woeful. Flesh does not have me. Ticking Casio, breathing time into nonsense. Digital. Solid.
austin-heath
Written by
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem