regrets will eat the soul
without care for spice or flavor
and doubt, it’s plain companion
will gnaw the sinews of the heart
until the pipes begin to leak
pouring our blood into the cavities
leaving us empty
yet bloated and full.

Voices whisper without words
yet somehow they find themselves heard;
spitting ash in the mouth
and molten serpents in the ear
telling me that I’m right
confirming all my fears.
And I hold my pillow tight
and surround myself in bedclothes
in warmth empty as January sun;
and tremble not for cold
but from the shivering, within.

Leave a Comment

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

WordPress.com Logo

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

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.