I sink my teeth into bedlam and
close my eyes against the feeling of
it dripping down my chin and pooling in
my collarbones, traveling further into
my heart and infiltrating my bloodstream,
marking the very things that I am made of
with its snake-like tongue once and for all.
I welcome conscience with bared teeth and a
wicked smile, I open my arms to devilish fingertips
and their sneering creations. I am buried in
these white crystals and relish the
feeling of being slowly suffocated under
the weight of December; I relinquish control to
the ice gods, I do it with strength.
Short days cannot break me;
I made you, I control you, I will not admit my fear.
-
rm
YOU ARE READING
semi-permanent
Poesiea collection of poetry "Let this evening be the next piece of fabric you/stitch onto the dwindling threads of time" (from "it's late") {RM 2022-2023}
