Thursday 4/07/2011 12:44:00 AM

bandages pull on wounds. the curtain to the broken window. healing comes in fists and jabs. the maggots thrive on the dead. the monsters to the closet. and the nightmares that follow.

time pursues. its orphans. the tears of the wind fall quietly. a marathon of faces. as brittle as the hours are dense. the fraction. the moment. dripping paint. wet with hysterics.

carrots and hounds. both chasing the string.

there is no color to how. it's grey. there is no motion to when. it's stagnant.

numbers boast their questions. no one can answer. flesh bargains its openings for a better return.

time wagers on each cut. How deep it goes.

0 comments:


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2016. All Rights Reserved.