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The Spider must be fed

19 Mar

It poisoned me from the beginning

and cast on me a curse.

Now I’m foaming at the mouth,

and bleeding words out in verse.

.

Can’t hold all the poetry inside,

can’t fight the burning bite from within.

It’s exhausting to stay up writing,

but even more so to deny the itch…

.

it uses me like a parasite,

I’m just the hand to unleash it’s words.

Caught in the drama the message ignites,

until I feel another sting, another burn.

.

Now my insides convulse with toxins

and I hallucinate flashing scenes

until I can tame a pen

and vomit out a new verse for you to read.

.

So, I hope you enjoyed the taste of my blood,

for it was all I had in place of ink.

That my pain, torment, illness, and vomit,

has oh, so entertained thee…

.

Oh, but I need the pen, i need the ink.

I need to let the poison bleed out of me.

I’ll take the foaming, for we are all sick,

and at least I can temporarily get rid of it.

.

Life bites, life poisons, and life must eat.

For life is a spider, slowly spinning its meat.

With verses for threads, and time as a web,

Life is a poem, and the poem must be fed.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

 

 

 

 

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Posted by on March 19, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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