my mind is a conveyor belt
it spins too fast and is pulled too tight but
its empty and
sometimes when i hit my head
fractures of my skull fall onto it.
they come out my mouth as questions
or jump down my throat and tear up my lungs like
i swallowed glass.
but when my cogs start to stutter and shutdown
and the glass melts into my veins
the only thing im left with
is the realisation that it wasnt my skull i was spitting out
and it wasnt my mind
YOU ARE READING
how to not die alone(on hold)
Poetryin this act i attempt to write ¿poems? i think,
