Swan Song On Repeat

Deadly revolutions

Over and again

Again and over

A tour en le’air

Held in the shadows

Of my doubts

A Cacophony with no rhyme

Pains me without any reason

Oh how vile…my hidden odile!

Her plumes of black

Seducing my sanity

As she pirouettes into my heart

Toe drilling for my poison

Releasing our ritual of reverence

via Daily Prompt: Cacophony

Buckshot Has A Voice

Your words…

Are your weapons of choice

Who knew buckshot had a voice…

You’ve made sure the shrapnel is deeply buried

A cellular pain that must be carried

How much more can I take…

Before I bend so far, I snap and break?

I’m out of my head tonight

I’ve conceded the fight

But the question’s remain

In my mind, they are a permanent stain

The what if’s?

The how’s?

The when’s?

The where’s?

Impossibility has punctured my tranquility

It’s needling need…a junkie’s disability

My heart-burns with destructive despair

And no amount of antacid

Can clean it’s toxic air

Right now, nothing is placid

A Cup With No Lid

How can a thumb crush?

Pressing mine against the window

I’m looking at the world on the other side

It’s making me so cold in the middle…

My eyes close on a deep breath

As my thumb depresses the up

My spirit is in such a shaking rush…

I’m standing on one leg like a pink flamingo

So pretty to look at…even though I’m nibbling at my hide

I wanna get high and lost, and that’s not a riddle

A light shone down yesterday, it was a little death

I tried to catch it, but I didn’t have a lid on my cup