She was a dainty delicacy.
He was a fine piece of craftsmanship.
She was a rupture, an injury snagged
on her ankle, dragging her down.
That's what he told them,
that's why she was so easy to taste.
She knew this, so instead of stretching the ache,
she curls up into a bawl and tears her skin
trying to find the tainted blood buried in her flesh.
YOU ARE READING
Screaming Into The Void
Poetry#1 in poetry :) #1 in free verse :) Have you ever felt like it was the end? Like today was just a bad day? That no matter how many times you believe that something can happen that it just might not? That no one gives a damn at all? That all you do...
