an angry mob forms
at the base
of my skull.
they want your blood,
your head on a spit.
on good days
with reason as salve for peace,
i am able to calm
the rushing tide
of a murderous sea...
but on most days,
days like this,
i
just
let
them
fucking
tear
you
apart.
at the base
of my skull.
they want your blood,
your head on a spit.
on good days
with reason as salve for peace,
i am able to calm
the rushing tide
of a murderous sea...
but on most days,
days like this,
i
just
let
them
fucking
tear
you
apart.
1 Comments:
sweet. i like that last stanza and how you drew it out. makes it more powerful.
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