deepundergroundpoetry.com
Held Pieces
It pains me
a toothache
I can't help but tongue
I bite down
words claw the enamel
drill a hole
hiss through in
a kettle whistle
a train whistle
smoke and vapor
burn and caress
sealed lips
until my jaw unclenches
and I chew and swallow
the pulp
of my shitty first draft
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 0
comments 4
reads 662
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.