My last poem as a juvenile

Looking down
on the ground
falling down
and drown
the downfall
the heartthrob
the heart break
of all times
the beating
a storm through the veins
ex-hale
breath in
the illusions
better times
tasting worse
pin-prick
the infusion
broken habits
fragments on the floor
shivering for more
but being denied
craving
starving
still hoping to begin
still praying for an ending
slaughtered soul
I’m sending you
a cure
take it
leave it
but believe me
and nail me to the cross
completely bare
just a blank stare
drink my blood
my tears
like pure poison
pierce my hands
and my feet
let me be the seed
to all evil

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2 thoughts on “My last poem as a juvenile

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