deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wakefully Dreaming Nightmares
I can hear it perfectly
The crunch of bone
Last of us, last of us
The amputation
Teacups for eyes
River of bodily fluid
Is it mine?
My gore strewn
Yet I am unharmed
It must be mine
My left hand waves
Decapitated mice
Tap-dance the echo
Of every syllable
Of the voice inside
Sea of eyeballs
Belligerent, angry
Handmaid, knit eyelids
Visual conversations
Embrace dying voice
Dripping humilation
Coming forward
Growing into black
The void I run toward.
The crunch of bone
Last of us, last of us
The amputation
Teacups for eyes
River of bodily fluid
Is it mine?
My gore strewn
Yet I am unharmed
It must be mine
My left hand waves
Decapitated mice
Tap-dance the echo
Of every syllable
Of the voice inside
Sea of eyeballs
Belligerent, angry
Handmaid, knit eyelids
Visual conversations
Embrace dying voice
Dripping humilation
Coming forward
Growing into black
The void I run toward.
Published 5th Apr 2017
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