Open Poetry #47 |
slivers in my heart |
twistedpup Member
since 2011-02-25
Posts 115 |
Like a wooden stake peircing a vampire's chest, it drove into my beating heart with a vengence. A thirst only quenched by blood. Streams began to trickle down my cheek, lit by the flickering light of the tv at the end of my bed. Restless tonight, unable to sleep. Cant stop thinking, about that butterfly blood feeling. My heart cracking like an egg after being dropped on the kitchen floor. Liquid drips out as if it were a leaky fosset in the middle of the night. No more chasing the game is over. Time to turn out the light, leaving just my tv on. ive said my peice, hope now i can sleep. Good night Sweet dreams. *hugs* |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Hah! Know what you're talking about. I've polished of a few bottle of good old sour mash Jim Beam trying entice sleep. Plus a few unorthodox little pills. Hope your night was good . . . ~ Logical argument is what destroys poetry because poetry is beyond logic.—Robert Graves ~ |
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