The moment it returns, eyes are lit like a flame.
It tastes like metallic things, though it is not.
It is liquid.
Warm.
And you would not believe the fantasies we have
About vampires, zombies, monsters tearing
Beneath the flesh into the depths of organs.
And it flows onto the cold, bounces on snow.
And when it's gone,
You're dead.
When it returns,
You're alive.
But tear away the flesh like a monster,
And let it spill onto the floor like water.
Take the soul of man,
And eat at it like an apple until your tongue is sore.
Eat it until you find your reflection inside,
And then look at yourself deeply.
You're a monster.
All humans are.
YOU ARE READING
The Beginning To The End
ŞiirI've never been a poet, that much is certain, but I can tell you that it does get written. A lot. These are the collections of my poetry I've written, and some of them hit hard for me.
