What're you looking at, punk?
Do ya wanna break my nose?
Chase my ribcage into my lungs?
Shove my sinuses into my brain?
Do ya wanna open my skin?
Make my innards my outards?
Choke me out?
Spit in my eyes while there is already blood in them?
Do ya wanna push me through the ground with those steel toed boots?
Cut off my fingernails with your makeshift shank?
Have your buddies hold me down while you gouge out my eyes with those dirty thumbs?
It's all pointless.
You can't hurt me in any way that will matter.
Because no one can kill me in the way that I kill myself.
So why don't you shove off, punk.
You mean nothing to me.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Thoughts
PoetryA collection of mostly free verse poems and short stories. Sometimes it is nice to simply clear your head. *Trigger warnings: descriptions of disturbing themes such as: body horror, death, interactions with the uncanny, topics in biology, and suici...
