My mouth foams; it is where the shells of crushed molluscs climb up from my throat. I stare wide-eyed as a moth clings to the rope, laying waste to its brood in the cold of the morning.
The man in the corner shreds the flesh from his cuticles, staring at the walls. A woman in mid manic chant paces the halls while praying. This is when I recall scripture saying: "do not let them see you, for hypocrites will line the streets to preach and I will turn from them."
-
Author:
coracaodacripta (
Offline) - Published: June 25th, 2024 18:24
- Comment from author about the poem: Cannibal insects and a man who was no better. He is taken to the Psychiatric ward.
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 3
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.