PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Above,
the train shakes the tressel
We all move like clock work
like minute hands
the tires tick tick across the stone bridge
It is raining,
and the fog is terrible
the headlights so displaced
and so far from courtesy

I enter the room of common fear
so many human bodies tremble
it is a space ship, in here
very cold
and bright
like a city at the tip of a dark cliff

I am so tired
that I almost ran off the road today
this is dangerous
your blood collects on my shoes
I kind of like it

Dangerous.

Like a madman decapitating ants, I loved you
whatever, I lost that loving feeling baby
I only dream of space ships, with gracious lights
and holding sharp things that cut and gut
I never close these eyes at it anymore
I plug my fingers in the holes and twist them around
to feel what is
inside of us
it is so serene
so magically gorgeous
to hold a uterus in my hands and
inspect its malice or kindness
and to put it down and
smile beneath my white mask
You're gonna be alright, baby
trust me.