ON YOUR HEART, I CHOKE,
AND MY BLOOD, IT SOAKS,
A STAIN LEFT RIGHT FROM THE PLACE
YOUR FINGERS LIFTED, GRIPPED MY FACE,
BLOODPRINTS MARK PASTY SKIN,
OF A PLACE ONCE TORTURED WITHIN.
THE KITCHEN KNIFE ADORNS
THE COLD, HARD TILED FLOOR
ILLUMINATED BY THE GLINT
OF YOUR CROOKED TEETH AS THEY GRIN
A SMILE THAT HAUNTS,
A LAUGH THAT TAUNTS,
A POWER THAT DAUNTS.
MY VOICE CROAKS,
"THAT'S THE NAIL IN THE COFFIN."
MY LUNGS WEAR THIN.
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who knew i could write with a vague rhyme scheme, huh?? sorry 4 aggressive caps. happy 2017 x
YOU ARE READING
you are not in wonderland ➵ poems
Poetryan assortment of shitty poetry i write gratuitously in my free time.
