18 years in the making and now they get these tasty flavors
memories and faded dreams are addictive to the little monsters
growing larger then ever possible, crowding the skull
attacking the ones waiting in line, the power of greed is overwhelming
the smaller ones gang together. atom bombs and bullet shells litter the lobes
charred, blackened skin shrinking to the bones. hollowed out, marrow sucked dry
hair so fine, gray and feels like lead, eye sunk so deep one could read their own mind
laying in my death bed for so long the creaks of my home. so natural, and no longer wake
through the leather hard ears the priest is heard reciting a lullaby
goodnight neighbor. good night.
I really enjoy reading all of you're poetry, sometimes I feel really connected to it.
ReplyDeleteIt's all the kind of feels that you can't describe that you seem to be able to put together in a poem so perfectly.