I was discouraged at therapy that my face was hideous
No one knew a sinner unless they looked at their father
The mother of your sons biological abortion
Like a piston
Like a slug waiting to eat salt
Disintegration of the molten force underneath your skin
Go ahead, growl!
Your magical, in the eyes of a horse that gave you life
That horse is actually a walrus
A nasty, disgusting, rancid creation that lives on Fruit Loops, Spam and dog biscuits
Her tits look like something from a Picasso painting
Drill a square box onto her forehead
Place a sticky note there and mention how we hate you
Make the devil appear through her holes
If you free him, then she’ll castrate herself
No,
Yes!
I know what I know because I’ve lived though this ordeal with a razor & a gun in my hands
Not to harm me but to harm you
Remember how the enemy looks
It’s you in disguise
Take your appearance and eradicate all of it
Destroy your image
Make yourself feel like a cemetery Cold, still, lifeless
You can do it
Bury yourself,
NOW!
Powerfully penned, Keith. This is classic you my friend. The Dr. Seuss of horror. I’ve missed you brother. Appreciate you.
Damian
Miss you too Damian. Appreciate the feedback!
This poem is raw and fearless. The line about the father hit especially hard – it carries so much weight and truth. The imagery throughout is visceral and powerful, like a scream turned into poetry.
Thanks for the awesome feedback!