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Teen Poetry #9

(untitled in haste)

Assassin_of_Verse
Member

since 2007-10-23

Posts 330
that So Cal

0 posted 2013-07-29 12:03 PM

Boiling point or melting point.
Makes the same stain
when your feelings are a cesspool whirling in your stomach.

Taste into ash, into a crawl to finish the last bite.
Limbs like crawling magma, murder in your veins and you tremble
‘till stillness,
into lethargy.
And trying to out-echo the pounding on your heart,
ignoring the pulsations, the vibrations, the same thought
as a pot and lid under boil.

Why does the mind freeze and twist in a cold snap of fury, the body thawed and a winded, coiled, spring.
Venom and fangs and a lash so frostbitten.

I’m fishing and the bait is gone and the hook is bent and the rod is straight
the ice cracked the winter long the seat gone and my sky is free free free.

Bluesy Socrateaser
Member Elite

since 2002-11-07

Posts 2417
In The Mirror

1 posted 2014-01-12 04:30 AM

Sounds like it was a tough row to hoe, but you made it.

Fishing can do that for you.

...just bein' Bluesy

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