Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by BelovedDreamer, Oct 9, 2011.

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  1. BelovedDreamer

    BelovedDreamer Well-Known Member

    All of the places inside me
    where the boogeymen hide
    are cracking open.
    I close my eyes
    and the things with fangs
    which hide within my blood, and bone, and brain,
    their teeth glitter in the darkness.
    At the moment, at least,
    it seems I have passed the point of despair.
    The period, however long or brief,
    in which you rail against it,
    in which you sob and struggle
    and lay curses upon both small and large gods.
    Perhaps, I have even, for the majority of moments,
    let die the part of me
    that struggled purely with self,
    I have let her sleep, at the least.
    She rarely rises to try to lift me where I would not go,
    or to attempt to suture and cement the inner fissures.
    Perhaps I have become at last
    too heavy and the chasms too wide to patch.
  2. Lana

    Lana Well-Known Member

    I like this one. It has good imagery
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