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FumbletonguePoems
The flesh of your words are gangrene Sloughing at the tips Their inflection an infection Necrosis apocalypse Swelling reds and gorging purples Lack of bloods life flow Putrid rotting letters Thrombosis runs the show Losing membrane integrity Their fetid smell does waft Forced fed through the senses Until we subjugate I can tell by the smell Under the perfume The only thing that they will do Is lure us to our tombs So keep your words and parlor tricks I see them clear as day Countless ways to contaminate And weaken all your prey It's time to tie the tourniquets At the shoulders and the thighs The time is now to amputate This toxicology of lies
0
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
Toxicology
The flesh of your words are gangrene Sloughing at the tips Their inflection an infection Necrosis apocalypse Swelling reds and gorging purples Lack of bloods life flow Putrid rotting letters Thrombosis runs the show Losing membrane integrity Their fetid smell does waft Forced fed through the senses Until we subjugate I can tell by the smell Under the perfume The only thing that they will do Is lure us to our tombs So keep your words and parlor tricks I see them clear as day Countless ways to contaminate And weaken all your prey It's time to tie the tourniquets At the shoulders and the thighs The time is now to amputate This toxicology of lies
You can tell their worth by counting all the swarming flies
Fumbletongue
Written by
Fumbletongue
49/F
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
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