PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Felt I should write a few words.

Get it down, onto paper,

Or ...

whatever.

And, I'll listen...

To your voice

Drifting through my head,

Sifting through my slowly numbing mind



And the bugs are starting to crawl in

Thick and black,

More morbid than my already callous thoughts,

A river runs deep in my veins,

and I follow it,

Hoping for salvation,

But all the saviours are dead...

So,

I'll just

Get it down on paper,

Or ...

whatever.



That first cut was the deepest, babe.

And, I've felt every one after it,

Still I'm crazy,

Crazy falling,

In a peach negligee

Down a hole of my own digging

Past a row of jaded hearts,

And blooded souls..

Pretty dolls,...

Rows of china dolls,

Spanish Dolls...



So, please excuse me, love...

If I don't seem to be listening,

Doesn't feel as if I hear anymore,

And the dog won't bite, I promise, dear.

As long as you're sitting there

Bleeding at the mouth,

With wit and sarcasm

That never really made fucking sense anyway.



But, you decided to run,

And now you're hurt,

Bleeding all over again,

And the blood will flow

Down a mountain path,

And, I'll never know

Where that river in my soul goes...

I'll never know...

Where...you...

Were... when...