deepundergroundpoetry.com
Arms
No hands
Thick black lines
meeting at a single point
Sharp, like crystals
sparkling like powdered
fairy wings:
ground under my claws
Sticky
from the guts and dust
that feel and taste like uncooked cake mix,
pooling in my mouth.
Thick black lines
meeting at a single point
Sharp, like crystals
sparkling like powdered
fairy wings:
ground under my claws
Sticky
from the guts and dust
that feel and taste like uncooked cake mix,
pooling in my mouth.
Published 5th May 2014
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Anonymous
6th May 2014 1:59pm
This is a really interesting little piece. It's in the self category which helps me out, but I'm not going to pretend I understand exactly what it is about. I kind of like that in a poem occasionally; it keeps me guessing.
Thank you for the read.
Thank you for the read.
6th May 2014 11:14pm
Hehe, its basically about how I dislike the way I act upon things, and respond to the consequences of my actions (if arms = the tools to act). I guess its a poem for me more than anyone, which tells you everything you need to know about how relevant that is, haha. Thanks for the read. :)
