PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I closed the door.

Fibers from the carpet

catching on the cracks in my feet.

Cold and dry,

the air matches my humor

and the pain of knowing

presses down on my skull.

Evil is a byproduct

of complexity.

The simple made complex

by necessity.

(they eat the dead)

I cannot climb to some high lonely place.

can someone go for me

and escape?

Take these drops of blood,

fling them towards the sun.

Gestures are the only prayers I know.