Fine Dust

Layered so thinly
Left for time
Tiny scratches
On my glasses
Left on my
Dust ridden bed
The moth have
Been bored
And died
Littered
Corspses
Along my
Duvet
There's
Tiny cut holes
Like stars in
The dark sky
Eaten into
Teared at
To get into

Or possibly
Something
Tearing
To get out

Maybe some
Missed opportunity
Maybe some
Missed exsistence

The search party
Outside in the
Blizzard are calling me

But i'm deaf and dumb
To their plantive call

I've written a letter
To my lost love
And sealed it
With a bloody kiss

This may be the last
Heartbeat
This may be the last
Plea
This may be the last
Call for alarm

The wolves are crawling
On my bedroom floor
The wolves are in my
Closet door
The wolves are ripping
My inside to shreds
My empty carcass
Under my clothes

They tried to pin me
They tried to hurt me
They tried to heal me

I hear my call
And open the door
Embracing
The wilderness
And it's harshness

Today
I chose to live
Independently




Poetry by jacy
Read 761 times
Written on 2006-04-14 at 08:37

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Marcus
Tough journey to the wnd but I'm glad you've chosen to deliver this because we all can feel this sometimes, more or less, we feel it. I really liked this one and the "pin me" "hurt me" "heal me" part was great!
2006-04-21