this poem is a liquid moon

My nights are inked
to the soiled sheets of tears
where the callous jaw bleeds inhuman poison,
or a thing pale as your heart
i sew it up to my nostrils, cold
the fragrance, shrieking my inside pits,
its dark, like blank spaces

Everything seems to be a show- off
your hands, your lips
my intelligence to care,
my cravings,
the nights turning them into molten pieces,
i die and become a ball of clay,
stuck to my body,
a parasitic drop of blood.

And there i lie
all dead and black,
with hemisphere dwindling,
and mouths missing
white thick slurp of warped words,
darkness runs in my heart,
like a lighthouse to my dreams.


52 thoughts on “this poem is a liquid moon

  1. And the light from your words are liquid drops of moon glow. How vividly you’ve described this. The juxtaposition of your use of lighthouse to describe the beacon of darkness is just brilliant. Just beautiful!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Definitely not. I said I am the child, pretending like I can do what you the grown up can do. Unable to read the newspaper, but holding it (upsidedown) in front of my face, to be like the adults.

        Liked by 1 person

      1. Same here . I would appreciate if you read my recent post as feedback from writer like you always appreciated and admired. I’m fan of your writing style

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s