deepundergroundpoetry.com
day by day
i would start
every morning
with some sort of steel javelin
shot through my chest
pinning me to the mattress.
i would be so sure
the coldness
spreading around my shoulders
was blood
the numbness
in my fingers and toes
rigor mortis
when i opened my eyes
the pressure change in disappointment
crushed my lungs.
after a while
i pulled my body off the crime scene
there was no javelin
there was no pain
and yet there was.
fickle sunlight
pretending to welcome me
running to the horizon
without me,
the clammy touch of sleep
soothing me
in the morning
i would start
with a steel javelin
shot through my chest
pinning me to the mattress.
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