PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There is always so much to say
and no words to scream.
I want another cigarette.
Legal suicide.
How quaint.

Insecure soap bubbles drift
from the ceiling and explode
in my eardrum
where they can fester.
Remember when we actually chewed our food
even after our teeth were ripped from our skull
and strung on necklaces?
Memories aren’t enough to make me hate you;
only to make me want to see
your intestines used as a clothesline.