Waed, for a stain- a split second- gains strength
Shade of red amid a gloomy wavelength
Made rainbow saturated in vulture’s stench
Splayed, festering on asphalt and blaring outwards “Death!”
Waed- like reaching outwards, pulling at my breath
Aid not for a laid out system of cells killed,
Pomade out on the gas station pavement
Came He, vulture, for a mind filled
To unbraid scents, spent nights, days unfurled,
Aid He not even the shade between brain wrinkles
cloud smudge the carrionoil spill
i am scared- i am not- oh, how these thoughts fill,
cloud, smudge my carrion coil- just how still
do i lay for the vulture?
Bore, they, holes along me for centuries
For, He, deathly centered in my memories
Gore and tasteless fluid ley my heartsease
And tore slowly through my arteries
Or seeped sour ‘round like nectaries
cloud smudge the carrionoil drips
i can feel the rain- i cannot- it licks
waters mix the carrion spoil- just how styx
splits away the odour
from april 4, 2022
poem from the past a day #40
a poem that came from its rhymes. it's like- when don't really have an ٭idea٭- you just gotta turn your brain off and rhyme made with splayed and came with pomade and unbraid to aid or waed. beyond that i enjoy the utter anxiety of the third stanza, it's sort of creepy. imagine dying and having the thought "okay i'm dead but what am i supposed to do with my body?"
