Creak, these bones of old
Bend nimble and bold
Shriek, the heart beats
With a flick of the wrist
It pumps to the rhythm of
Blood is life and life is hard
Shard, tear these words out
In bold ink letters of mud
Let it trickle down
Til there's nothing left
It's best, we never met again
YOU ARE READING
trigger points.
PoetryA collection of my original poetry/prose from 2006 onwards. Warnings: these poems deal with mental illness, including mentions of self harm, suicide, emotional anguish and abuse. Please do not read if you might be triggered by such content.
