PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You were left alone with the maniacs

They de-fleshed you like that shit they

dropped on Japan back in World War II

You lock yourself behind a door and rip

out your eyes

You stuff fairy god mother stories in your ears



You were not prepared to be so alone



The gutters are crying, you know because you

have depressed yourself by the window sill

There are things around you, very small specks of an aspect

you can't seem to grasp

You will die this way, your mother even knows... you are not a fighter.



You are having problems.

You won't speak.



You are consumed

like a rotten wall

filled with cockroaches

devouring it all

you blink

and you blink

and you blink

You make your brother get out of bed

He has lost 8 pounds

He won't eat

His cancer is turning red like

a shredded limb

and he is sad, too



This anger fills the kitchen

it fills and the windows break and

the people inside are sticking thorns into their hamburgers

swallowing like it was nothing.

Teeth are breaking

and you swallow them too

until your digestive tract is full of shit and thorns and angry teeth

and you vomit something comparable to a lung into an

empty cup

You set it down

You pick it up

You shift uneasily at the sight of your insides,

there

is

nothing

pretty

about

it