deepundergroundpoetry.com

A little death

I donít have time to write  
 
I donít have time to trap emotions  
Stretch and pin them to blank paper
Like specimens  
 
Here is what I felt today  
Look and marvel  
 
No
 
As much as I try  
I canít see whatís missing  
 
I see the empty rows  
where heavy words should squat  
Instead I look at blankness and smell the acrid smoke of artificial things  
 
Like bloody gaps felt by a probing tongue  
 
Things used to live here  
Feelings used to die here  
Impaled by pen as if by sword  
 
Now they never were  
I donít have time anymore  
Not even enough to mourn
DystopianMelody
Written by DystopianMelody
Published
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