Slip the festering images under
fractured bark.
Let them run down your throat,
like honeyed pus
Stopping
long enough to lick the scent
of rotting pine that dribblies
off your chin..
March on, to your pedestal
self made.
It stands tall, embroidered by
the finest of wenches wearing
tattered gowns handed down
by cloistered nuns
You pilfered, and pinched my
mind as it moved, believing
I would restore what you need
when you need it
You leave me to bathe in the
residue of the cruelty you left
behind
Your presence coarse cutting
through damp hair that I swallow
Bailing wire hangs from my limbs
catching on my past and
dragging it with me
Midnight like a mausoleum
shining off the top of the river,
the iridescent sparkles that
swirl voices of the insane
crooked from stretching to
feed off the sun as she opens
her mouth
Shiny pennies clank at the
bottom of a galvanized washtub
Burning the ears of those
who lie waiting for you
in wet creosote.
©iris3690
I