A Ten-Minute Misery

A collection of my free-writing poetry and pieces.

Sometimes I feel like every human connection has been

Severed between the silver blades of scissors, glinting

Like a shotgun barrel in the late evening sunlight of

An August that never ended in a summer that never

Began, and I know it's

Time to

Die.

 

The clock hands flash with funeral grandeur, everything

Is ending and the world falls to its knees; you comfort the

Archangel in your arms before you empty your

Second last bullet into her diamond

Skull. . .

 

Empty your tear-ducts, empty the chamber into the

Stone hearts that lock you within their mortuary parlours;

Ten-minutes days ache like a dying milennium

Embedded with the jewels that somebody's nobody

Died for.

 

I can't feel the light on my rotting flesh 'cause it's

All artificial and white; no darkness to hide my

Ugly eyes; why can't you gouge them from my head

And watch them roll like marbles; stones that are

Flawed to the

Core.

 

Put the dagger inside their souls and watch them

Bleed like a burning

Bible; sins of a population, one prayer heals the

Sinners; just stone the ones who felt and

Questioned.

 

Sometimes I feel like alienation is a

Drug, and I'm addicted to my own

Humiliation, I just want to cut the

Last thread and

Go numb.

 

Do you ever feel like screaming?

Locked away to shriek until the

 Walls bleed and trigger the

Paradise apocalypse.

 

Sometimes I could stab my own reflection

And watch blood drip from the cracks in the

Glass,

While I fall to pieces like a skeleton.

 

Have you ever hoped that

Nobody loves you .  . ?

 

 

 

The End

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