i feel the blood pumping
through my left eye and i look
at you hanging there. beside
that filth. this would be dread
if dread was throw up being
forced back down my throat by
the hands of the unworthy. to seem
keen is to be able and awake.
i see the black pooling behind
your own eye. and it hurts. i know it.
i have your pain manifesting
inside of my ribcage. black.
YOU ARE READING
my darkest mind
Poetryoh, my darkest mind, still as you incarnadine me in vain, you behold me as i fall. deeper, my darkest mind, roiling in fury, the fever you gift me, pain that befalls me, obsidian once sharp had since dulled to reveal the rectification of what used...
