Poetry Blogs (realization)
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Vice Grips
Regrets pierce, nerves scream their needles poke voodoo-like. The muscle pumps erratic, shattered, numbed. Defibrillate again to feel one excruciating wish.
Leakage from unhealed rips. Shock and awe overcome. Instant replay replays again. The prognosis? I don’t accept it. He-said, she-said guide the insane scalpel.
Drained, I sink. Mortal, I die. Futile efforts to pay for a murky past. Stuck...
Wednesday 18th March 2015 7:31 am
Stay Positive
The hand reached into the pocket and pulled out lint. Expecting the worst, the lint was a better gift than anticipated. A cop asked me if there are any sharp objects she should know about, I say, "no", knowing that I have dirty tricks up my sleeve. I am arrested. It could always have been worse. So could I. But here I am. Jail Cell. Alone. No friends close. No bail. Alone. Surrounded by humans ...
Monday 3rd September 2012 7:29 pm
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