deepundergroundpoetry.com
Slight hush
That powder looks like pixie dust Whiskey makes my knife thrust
That swollen face has me hushed
Your very existence infects me
Inside my head is oddly strange
In my thoughts, you are in chains
Pathetic, waiting, to be slowly slain
Your pride forever unsatisfied
My little fingers get a better grip
Betwixt one razors edge and mine
Calm and chaotic in perfect line
Deafening quiet screaming silence
Published 7th Jul 2018
| Edited 8th Jul 2018
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
8th Jul 2018 1:21am
Welcome to DP!
What a wonderfully dark write! I did get a bit tripped up on the first line in the second stanza.
I read it a few time and found that when I moved “in my” down to the second line it had a better flow. Just something to think about.
What a wonderfully dark write! I did get a bit tripped up on the first line in the second stanza.
I read it a few time and found that when I moved “in my” down to the second line it had a better flow. Just something to think about.
8th Jul 2018 1:44am
Sweet. Thank you! I appreciate you pointing that out. And also for the compliment.
8th Jul 2018 1:53am
