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Published: 2018-01-12 05:23:48 +0000 UTC; Views: 119; Favourites: 2; Downloads: 0
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I trickle the tips
of my pencil fingers
in...
In that bony bend
beyond blood
where the blade rent
a rib away
to depart
it's kin in cage
It was leverage
it was not melees
it was gas-lit chambers
to suck my shrieking
soul away
But those crunchy
tissues of scars
folded into firmer fissures
(you know that texture...standard issue)
And now pure oxygen swoons
this new moon face
There's whole wheat
wonderbreaths
and meals of healing
entrenching my chest
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Comments: 2
northernfly [2018-01-12 18:12:52 +0000 UTC]
The second stanza makes me consider the whole original sin thing, which I suppose is strange, I guess just the rib. Too weird eh? The fourth and fifth stanza's are quirky and powerful. Overall great piece
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
ShadowsofLight777 In reply to northernfly [2018-01-12 19:29:03 +0000 UTC]
I though of that too! Although I didn't intend for that to be a part of this, can't help the association. Thank you for the kind feedback, it's always a light in my day
👍: 0 ⏩: 0


