You wield power.
Until you beckon in the flames.
Echoing woes.
Bleeding muscles like shame.
Whips lashing.
Like the sting of heartache.
You cry out.
Screams that would make the earth quake.
Leave me be.
Remove the stake from my heart.
Inconsolable.
As you rip my bones apart.
Give me hope.
Stick in the needle.
Let me roll away.
Crush me, the beetle.
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Author:
Noah (
Offline) - Published: September 18th, 2017 02:46
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 51
Offline)
Comments2
Screams that would make the earth quake, lots of pain in this read, pain is an illusion meant to control the hearts of man, very raw,love it
Raw. A respected adjective. Thank you
In my mind i had you writing this as if you were a tomato on a plate of salad....about to be lacerated by a diners knife..... i pictured you savouring the moment your flesh would give way to the pressure of the knife point and it sliced into you spewing your juice and pips all over adjacent lettuce.
MMMM pie for desert too.
Haha! I guess I can see it. Not what I expected, though. Thank you
Be flexible.... it'll come.
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