"deformis" poems
"deformis puella! discesserit ab illa!"
eyes gone pale (for lack of light)
a sniffle is heard in the depths of night.
and whilst the candle shrinks, there becomes
a soft quiver of sound, the voice which barely hums.
"non omnis moriar."
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 11:38 PM UTC
I have lied to myself
on countless occasions,
hoping to forge truths
from behind my
yellowed teeth.
And now my mouth
is grown thick
with cultures
that were never brushed
from my pallet.
It is evident
in my clever speech
that I have never spoken
in my native tongue,
that my teeth are dying
because of this.
It is only a matter
of time before
the infection spreads
to my vital organs
and the lies I told
become me.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 12:48 PM UTC