I will not refrain from making this personal
You have dwelled in me long enough
To force my hand
This hand, that now, won’t stop shaking
Because of you
Scribbling ink upon paper-
Smudged with sweat from my brow
Inside
The fires of your hell,
Outside
The tundra of your stare,
Rattle my brain
And from me you drain
My strength and my patience
I retain only adamancy
To rival your vexation
You, who have crippled me so
I pray you know, how much I loathe
Your pestilent touch
But I beg you still,
To keep my hands,
To keep my head,
To leave me this much.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 2:45 PM UTC
I will not refrain from making this personal
You have dwelled in me long enough
To force my hand
This hand, that now, won’t stop shaking
Because of you
Scribbling ink upon paper-
Smudged with sweat from my brow
Inside
The fires of your hell,
Outside
The tundra of your stare,
Rattle my brain
And from me you drain
My strength and my patience
I retain only adamancy
To rival your vexation
You, who have crippled me so
I pray you know, how much I loathe
Your pestilent touch
But I beg you still,
To keep my hands,
To keep my head,
To leave me this much.
Inspired by Charles Bukowski's - To the ***** who took my poems.
