PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I have this tingling feeling inside,

it creeps to my mind,

like a slow whisper in my ears it rest,

captivating my mind and hands,

for some reason

I want to hurt you real bad,

I want to get a razor blade,

so slow or fast motion,

cut the strands that hold you to my chest,

yet I know I first

have to open my chest,

smash my ribs so I can reach my destination,

blood splatter all over the place,

all walls stained with red,

while the organ tries to escape,

have my feet over it

hold it still,

get a baseball bat made from steel,

hit it as many times as I can,

till my arms grow tired,

hold it with my hands,

toss it to the ground,

jump over it,

spit on it more than once,

kick it like a ball,

bouncing from the walls,

should cause me humor and make me smile,

grasp a rusty knife

which point is of a square,

so I can dig deeper and deeper

for its tissue to tear,

filled its inside with lemon, alcohol and salt,

for is not capable of speech,

yet I want to hear it scream,

beg like a kid,

getting ready to be hit,

crying and begging for my actions

to come to a halt,

so I can drop the bat and knife,

hear that echo like in the movies,

slow, distant, all actions stop,

concentrate and theories of the ending,

yet I know the actions,

my mind has a plan,

does the clocks really stop,

or simply is it an alibi

for a more effortless take over