Is it bad to be jealous?
I know it is, but it lingers.
Like a long lost shadow.
Im sown to my ankles.
Cast iron feelings, my
Ribbones snipped like poorly
Timed poultry wishes
I'd crack them all if I could
Spin my silvery sins then.
Unpick my lone loom, my love,
Keep my devoid of purgatory
Piled high upon piles of corpses
I would've been apples on burnt trees
I smell the burning.
And now I feel like a unchained saint,
Preaching my words of wisdom
The gospels of the Lord run down my tongue
I cut it out, the ambrosia,
And let the misguided miracles
Crater the hole in my face,
In the mirror, I try to meld faces
Slip eye sockets that roll into the back of my head
I morph, poor porcelin heads
The tweezers pull apart my macabre manifesto
And you become mine
Unfortunately.
YOU ARE READING
What He Told Me. Poetry
PoésieI was told to share what I write by a guy. This is what I've done. Some of this is dark. Some of this is the inner workings of what is happening in my life. Im sorry for making you read this
