poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

Cold Toes
Tonight my toes are freezing Bedroom windows and the evening chill conspire to provoke me But there's no blood in this reed I inhabit No heart at work to kindle warmth I don't care again just lie in my bed in the dark, desolate bereft of tears It's as if I never left and I wonder now where I've been all these years My stomach turns with nausea at my utter worthlessness A desire to vomit my bile - loathing made liquid and tear from me guts burdened with the fatigue of living But I instead lie motionless waiting in hope for the input to stop [22 VIII 09]
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
All Rights Reserved
« prev | index | next »