deepundergroundpoetry.com
The hardest part
is that on some nights
I still hear that
lamb crying out,
finding myself falling
asleep with bones
protruding inside
of my throat
as innocence
buries itself into
my endless pit
for a stomach
before jowls
salivate in mercy
praying for empty
baptisms inside
a white-font,
I guess it isn't
in the stopping
it's learning
to live with
that lamb,
soothing
every time
it needs to
call out.
Published 1st Apr 2024
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