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Poet’s Blade

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2/2/2024

 

My blood has no taste
Unless served on a steel plate
Sharp enough to chisel fine words
That bring primal color to this dinner

Paper on a platter
I consume to later vomit
Acids merged with indigestible flavors
Sick poems no one desires

These cravings feel like love
Fleshly layers bear resemblance
To each bite
I take out of my so called life

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    3 COMMENTS

    1. Quite often even the dark and distasteful thoughts must be laid bear. Maybe we’re under the impression no one cares, but people do relate. This is dark and disturbing. But life is too sometimes.

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