Millions [Poetry]

useless blood & bone

useless blood & bone

november24twenty17

the calendar's flooded days have us locked away so treacherously, frantically flipping pages through memories. living life has become a never-ending nightmare, the raindrops no longer soothing but beating, drowning. I descend under the weight, and remain.

cataclysmic, so it seems. such a definition. I funnel tears into my stomach, and my entire digestive system relents. and I sing the songs that remind me of you most, for if I forget, I have nothing.

but how could I forget? hearts are hardly once in a lifetime, or never, so I hear. through it all, my bloody, battered heart still belongs to you.

the sky tumultuous, sympathizing with the broken. I seemed to have lost a sense of purpose, for the papers I promised I'd have stacked remain scattered. perhaps my bothersome self-loathing might pressure me into permanent procrastination.

loss of touch, loss of security, the bump-in-the-night disgustingly staring with a million faces. the end crosses my mind with a bit more ease than before. I horrify myself.

and so, pounded into the ground, I'll bury the best parts of me and become scraps.