needles in my brain

when i try to speak
bubbles of rancid filth
form between my lips
a gurgling choking
fills esophageal spasms
as poisoned thorns
pierce the illusionist
leaving dream to congeal
a globular hellscape
of bilipid disaster
the world has decreed
today is one for silence
as i stumble miserably
through shadow dappled ache
seeking solace in the
unfinished vernacular of
suicide attempts in prose

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s