Mover

October 17, 2021

Papier-mâché faces crinkle at a new sight.
It’s nothing special from the start.
Mouths tearing at the sides.
Faking a natural response.
Shrewd intent by masses of the ill-informed.
Plaguing facets of auricular vision

Pieces of past become the future.
Repeating times ahead.
Not moving forward in steps of progression.
Body stale from it all.
Stagnant yet quivering eyes look to find escape.
Only tears keep running when the tap runs dry

With hands bloodied from the fight.
Slapped farther to cement shackles.
Clicking next to the steel family.
Raging blood & bone litter from end to end.
With nae end in sight of the finish line.
Runner pass the mantle.
Veined hope scores in the mind

No more words to freely distribute.
With no more ink to write the story.
Worst case scenarios not acted.
Only taken subserviently.
Bent backwards to allow twisted thought.
Amplified like the brightest light.
Fed more to unknown serving plastic lined dominators.
Swallowed down scratching every morsel.
Pouring into the viscus fluid of thought.
Growing inside like a thorned cacti.
Poisoning the well.
The damp nestled cave of hydration.
The soiled floor of self

Flushing, it’s needed to move ahead

Boots are dust.
Threads tattered to flame.
Skin hardened to snap.
Bones crushed from lifting

No more pins.
No more poison.
No more blood.
No more fight.
No more fear

< Alone

City Of Dull Numbers >