deepundergroundpoetry.com

hung jury

Spurned to sore, I nail down my lid,  
cross my elbows tight, and just wait..
    
Peace, en sacrosanct, eludes me,    
silent safeties tailgate in late.    
Ill assumptions, travel on sound    
to flood through my paperweight.    
Layered lies, do not slumber tonight;    
as I tuck my chin to knee-space.    
   
This is my hide, my always, inside,    
huddled close, as sadness erupts..    
     
If able to throw reflection on you's    
I'd open-eye stare, in mossy dare    
and play catechism to your hate.    
As those contemptuous whims do battle?    
I regally evades the debate.  
   
darksighs
Written by darksighs
Published | Edited 20th Jul 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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