deepundergroundpoetry.com

land o' leeches, tub o' lard

Bruised fruit bears bitter wine,
drunk off the fumes and doing just fine,
a skeleton suit in the way back,
closet space for all the humor you lack,
a bug's burp of fever sets the soundtrack,
as blind eyes see a bright light illuminating
places far from tight, in pincushion skin
dauntingly translucent and thin.
Written by mantisdeer (Cait)
Published
Author's Note
Oh, the grey death, oh how it pulls..
Oh how weary the governing old heads make me, so detached from logic, and NEVER biracial. So stuck inside dogmatic thoughts of neverending misogyny, a hole to dwell, so damp with hatred.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1 reading list entries 0
comments 2 reads 393
Commenting Preference: 
The author is looking for friendly feedback.

Latest Forum Discussions
COMPETITIONS
Today 4:54pm by Summerrain75
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:30pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 2:08pm by Tallen
SPEAKEASY
Today 2:07pm by Tallen
COMPETITIONS
Today 1:45pm by Tallen
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:29pm by Ahavati