Report Blog Entry
Dog Mouth:
Eating out of the palm
of my hand. Sweating bullets
the rush of something
new. The touch of hate
that rushes so strong
through me.
All i never wanted. Your bite,
Your need to feed. Your crave
the thought of typing the rest
of this poetry makes
me want to shove a shotguns
bullet in through my skull.
I hate poetry. It sucks.
It isn’t fun and the thought
of writing this is sending me
through a spiral, that
i, am truly not as talented
as i would like to believe
I am.
It is my own worst enemy. I am
in my hell. It will never end.
I am in my head and will never
be free’d.
Comments
Displaying 0 of 0 comments ( View all | Add Comment )