deepundergroundpoetry.com

This room is pitch black

I lie folded on car wreck shoulder
reaching off into morning mouth nothing

I feel the cold steel bedframe huff with disgust

a sea of black widow spiders consume my hand
searching for the cracked semi charging phone

teeth are a lull dull ache in the distance
failures count themselves as proud 3rd place field day ribbons

chests split in tween'
nightmare'd creatures saunter by
picking hors d'oeuvres of my ravaged bone dinner table

this room is pitch black
samael
Written by samael (Zaroff poetry)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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InNomine Bluevelvete
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