Lost, Never Missing

*Written yesterday when I was half-asleep after watching a horror movie. That's why it's weird.*

The wounds re-open like roses,

After a winter of paling petals welded together by frozen droplets,

Crystals between layers of velvet spun from blood.

Each vein is a bleeding track, blurred and mutilated by needle-point,

Glinting silver deadened in a wash of red.


I am lost in this coma of self-destruction,

Pulled underneath the waves of an ink-black sea.

Drowning in the noise of everything crashing down.


Watching through bruised eyes as my life is torn to pieces,

You rip it apart like paper, with your demon's claws.

Insignificant, perhaps even wortless, an afterthought

Never on the missing list, 'cause no-one noticed I was gone.



The End

73 comments about this poem Feed