Revolte
07-30-2012, 02:32 PM
My coffee-kettle head warms
'til red glows from the steel
and steam pours from my ears as whistles
–singing the songs I can not write
because they are too true and vivid.
Stapled venom-lips tear apart
to breach silence in swears and aimless-curses,
hoping to damn those who damned me
to solitude's resistant void.
And there I can not be felt
clawing at the skins of ghost-hoards,
but still I scraped and scratched
–screaming all the while.
When a black-light light-bulb shined
ever so dark above my melted pot
and popped into a whisper
“Alas, you are the spirit.”
'til red glows from the steel
and steam pours from my ears as whistles
–singing the songs I can not write
because they are too true and vivid.
Stapled venom-lips tear apart
to breach silence in swears and aimless-curses,
hoping to damn those who damned me
to solitude's resistant void.
And there I can not be felt
clawing at the skins of ghost-hoards,
but still I scraped and scratched
–screaming all the while.
When a black-light light-bulb shined
ever so dark above my melted pot
and popped into a whisper
“Alas, you are the spirit.”