Devoured

 
Poetry burnt my toast
it punched me in the eye
and said: C'mon then
write some more

Those rogue wave words
held me under like a toy
raking my face
across every uncharted rock
I'd succeeded to avoid
screaming the truth
all the way to now
until I couldn't hold breath
for quite long enough
still believing
air was all that mattered

In the roar of the moment
there's only fear
and the red stuff inside
flowers white
Inspiration's desert mouth
feeds a gloating bin
lines I cant finish
pick at my heart
with bare hands
Wiping crumbs
from a tired blunt knife
I taste the guilt
of another dull day
devoured