PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It has been 106 days

since I felt teeth,

bladed, gloriously wicked grin,

black caves that swallow thick,

and a massacre of the already macabre.

It has been I for an eye

and you, you, you.

It had been truth

against twist,

faith versus wit,

and a darkness so void

to catch me in.

How could I,

but

how could you

suffer and bruise

colors never seen

but below this sinking surface?

Put out this fire that always kills,

always blackens,

and never die, die, dies.