Her scream that tempts the muddy wolves that slide between the pines
Has the numbed and strung-out timbre of a ruined warhorse whore;
A bayonet, blood-blunted edge, revolves within her mulchy throat;
Tonight no moon will complement the sweetest, blackest gore
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Author:
JulesBurnsit (
Offline) - Published: March 6th, 2024 16:40
- Comment from author about the poem: The 2am words of a girl on her first week of lithium.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments1
This is brutal but magic at the same time
A definate talent
Raw and real
Looking forward to more
Thank you! Hope to hear from you again, your kind words are much appreciated!
And "Delights" just filled my heart with joy, 3 minutes ago.
1 more comment
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