No anesthesia.
Just open me up.
Heart full of tar.
Lead lined guts.
I want to feel the pain as I slowly bleed out.
Biting at my tongue as they're sowing up my mouth.
Sometimes the my thoughts drown out the city.
Sometimes the city drowns my thoughts.
Sometimes the streets pulse through my veins.
Sometimes sitting on my stoop I am lost.
Kamikazing my worth with the stain of my deeds.
I dig moats around my prisons despite burning to be freed.
Screams silenced by sirens.
Yearning met by begging hands.
Bloody shoes and perspiring walls
impede the fallen's efforts to stand.
Hungry and broken.
No one hearing the calls.
We must take from this house.
All that gives are the walls.
Luke Judd 3.15.2010
No comments:
Post a Comment