Mover

October 17, 2021

Paiper-maché 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
Plagueing 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
Vained 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 subserviantly

Bent backwards to allow twisted thought
Amplified like the brightest light
Fed more to unknowns 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 >