kitty the naughty poet

Bombshells rubble

Black smoke from the bombshells rubble

sticks to the back of my throat

three days later and I still can\'t think

still can\'t see through the thick black ash

that rains down around my mind

the poet from within still lost in the darkness

stuck between the rock and a hard place

listening to the screams of my broken mind

words no longer forming just melting in the bombs rubble