Poem #361

I never wanted it to come this far.
Somewhere along the way
my brain lost the ability to
produce a thought deeper than
the few drops of whiskey left on the counter.

I tied my vocal cords into a bow
just to make them look prettier.
I carried all these useless trinkets in my hands
to keep them away from picking up a pen.
Such a detailed saboteur.

I graciously cemented myself in a single place
to have the best view of time passing by
The years tearing through my skin like razors
while I try to remember a time when
there was life inside this sculpture.

Don’t forget that my first novel is available on Amazon: Little Rebellion
Also you can get my poetry books: Rehab and Identity crisis


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2 thoughts on “Poem #361

  1. Beautiful

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