I dance upon beds of thorns
Each calculated step bringing me closer to the end
I count the symphonic beats
Balls of my feet pressing into merciless thorn
Waltzing on tiny knifes each step more precise than the last
I feel the condescending tone of the woods creak through my skeleton
Rattling my brain
Like a pinball
I counted flower petals until my eyes blurred and my fingers went numb
"She loves me not" rolling off my tongue sweeter than a kiss goodnight
More bitter than a kiss goodbye
Playing nice with the adults at the dinner table has left my plate feeling cold and rotten
I want to be the bull in the china shop
Crashing and smashing my way through life
I'm so sick of being careful
I paw at the ground and feel the adrenaline pump through my veins
I'm going to rip this place to the ground
And when the dust settles
And the air becomes silent once again
You'll see me
Standing atop the rubble.
YOU ARE READING
Between the Lines
Poetry(Part two of a poetry series) *Trigger Warning* Triggering topics will be described and discussed in this book. Read at your own risk. Here is a collection of my poetry. Nothing more. Nothing less. I hope you delight in my deterioration...~
