Poetry

November

Fiery and vibrant
Rusts,
Fades
In the quiet
The inside of my head
Is a riot
A fucking riot
So loud

Lying awake
Tears stinging
The inside of my head
Is screaming
In my nightmares I am
Dreaming
About something better

I roll over in bed to see blood on the floor
Everything hurts
I don’t want to be internally bleeding anymore
But at the same time I like it
And I like watching her cripple
And cry
I like watching that bitch die
It’s funny

Press my eyes closed
Skin is on fire
Beneath my clothes
Yet I still feel cold
God, I’m getting old
Five more days…
Clocks are turning
Ticking away

And then soon I’ll be gone.

©VicRomero

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