Tuesday, January 3, 2006

a poem - a bit dark.

when the jokes end
after the laughter pales
a bleeding wound unveiled
pressed outwards, spreading inwards
inexcusable deeds
a rotted soul
unglued from the hinges there is little left to find
i bleed uncontrollably
wondering if you feel my weakening pulse
if only you were able to come close
feel my whimpering breath as fear strikes a thundering bell
memories growing faint with the last tone
my stomach tears itself in two
the tale i wrote suddenly sours
you grow faint

and i die.

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