The Poetry of Coward Words

Inside the skin and bone
Fat I sit
Curled around myself
Prophylaxis
I cannot see
You cannot see
Oh these lies I do believe

Run away on winged feet
Leaving the skull door ajar
Stomping boots in unison
March March March
Left Left Left Left Left
Halt!
Present arms!
Shoot the whispering doom

As poetry hides
Shivering in hopeful forgotten corners
Unwilling to contribute
To the new brain order
Amassed images of future fear
All sing together
About nothing in particular

The past beats itself to pulp
Fiction strangles reality
As a petechial haemorrhage of thought
Draws blood monsters in the dark

Why don’t you just die……BITCH!!

SLAM!

The door shuts
Snapping umbilical chords

Monsters
Shrivel
Cremated from within
They run out of ammunition

The poetry of coward words
Wins the war again

Copyright February 2014

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