deepundergroundpoetry.com

To kill time

Shudder
when the drum beats
into the silence,
into the nothing.
Where the sickness
lingers, with disdain,
leave your excessive
stench on my clothes.
Kill time
for the thrill,
take my white kitten
with the deep blue eyes
behind a shed
and stamp
with your steel-toe caps.
Brain against cement.
The final squeal echoes in the air like pollen for the allergic.
"Now that's release, kid." The spark of a cigarette.
The killing of time.
The drum beating into the silence.
I look up
and the incineration
of your smile,
the clash of our lips
in a less than classy affair
affects me
in a trance
no other hypnotist could
master.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
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